I’ve never told this story before...

Trust me, this is a must read ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ Dear Reader, My name is James Edward, and I’m the Chief Editor here at Market Stars Press. Here’s my story… In 1985, I was born with traces of drugs in my system. Parents were addicts. 1988, 3 years later… I’m 3 years old, and I remember waving goodbye to my Dad as he’s hauled away in the back of a police car. Mom called the cops on him. In 1989, my Dad’s out of jail, I’m 4 years old, and my little brother is born. Then my mom is taken to jail for hiding drugs underneath my infant brother, in his baby carrier. My Dad was suddenly a single father of two young boys. He knew something had to change, so in an instant… He quits drinking, smoking, drugs… everything, cold turkey. And that’s awesome. But since it was just us three… He quickly decided that living on welfare, barely making ends meet, and living in poverty…. That was not what my father wanted for us. He wanted us to have all the opportunities he didn’t. So he decided he had to make a lot more money. But to do that, he had to get the SKILLS to make more money. And to do that… Well, he had to go to school. Which — when you’re raising two young boys — is not easy to do. Alright I remember, it was 1993 at this point… He got accepted into a community college program. So he could learn how to become an xray tech. Doing cat scans in a hospital. But going to school was a full time thing. And he still needed to make money for us to live. And he also needed money for school. But since he was suddenly busy with school… Making money NOW was suddenly impossible. So he signed up for every government program he could… My brother and I were getting free lunches at school… And free breakfasts… And we’d get our clothes off the discount racks at goodwill… Rent assistance… Food stamps… Free after school care… But it wasn't enough. Because for my dad, school was starting soon. And he was supposed to get registered for classes. But he hadn’t heard back about getting his grants… Money to pay for school… So it seemed like his opportunity to go to school was slipping between his fingers. And suddenly the welfare support wasn’t coming through. Paperwork getting mixed up. And suddenly the rent support wasn’t coming through. It was delays after delays after delays. And if it went on any further? It would leave him unable to go to school… Unable to support us… Which meant we would lose the apartment we were in… Which meant our bright future was suddenly going dim. And cold. Because all of this was happening at the end of December. Days before Christmas. It was winter. And we had no real winter clothes. We had no school supplies for the spring. We had no presents to put under the tree. And that was the first time I saw my father cry. ... As a child, it was confusing. Frightening. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what it meant. And it wasn’t until I became a man… A father… That I understood what he was going through. Guilt. Regret. The feeling that he could of done something. Should have done something. But he was already doing so much. And yet… It wasn’t enough. And with Christmas just a few days away… It was already too late. What my father needed was a miracle. (Foreshadowing) Fast forward. It’s morning. I’m watching cartoons. Probably Xmen. Eating bootleg cheerios, from the bag. And there’s a knock at the door. Now real quick… I didn’t know this until I met my wife… But remember. It was just my dad, my brother and … Living together. Always. No girls. Which means we didn’t wear pants, unless we had to. So the door knocks again… And we’re gallivanting about in this weird pantless adventure through our house… My dad yelling "hold on" while cartwheeling to the bedroom… My brother and I doing as boys do, and not getting ready when it’s time to get ready… But we made it. Dad opens the door… And there’s this grandma. Well…. somebody’s grandma. You know, there’s a look. Like they’re glowing and cheerful, but they’ve also seen some things, so you better not cross them. You get me. And behind her is a younger woman. And two girls. About my age. So it was like a family. And they’re holding giant black garbage bags. Like 5 of them. Full of stuff. And they’re smiling. Which was super weird… Because it looked like they were bringing us their trash? And they seemed pretty happy about it? Idk. But I thought "is this what girls do?" (actually it’s kinda like that) But anyways… The nice women come into our home… Hauling these black trash bags… Say hi to my brother and I… Walk up to our janky little plastic tree… A honky little thing leftover from last year… And they dump their bags all over the floor. Inside each bag was dozens and dozens of wrapped presents. Toys… Clothes… Books… Backpacks… School supplies… And everything we could ever want or need. And it was in that moment, that I understood… For the first time… What Angels can look like. And looking back… Even though I didn’t really understand… I knew in that moment who I wanted to be as a man. A father. A leader to others. I suddenly understood what it meant to be giving… Charitable… And full of love. And I knew in my heart what it meant in scripture, when the Angel said unto the people… Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. All people. Including you. Including me. Including my father. Who by the grace of God… Got the money he needed to support us. Got the money he needed to go to school. Where he got his degree. Got a wonderful job. And built a career out of it. Which brought us out of poverty… And moved us across town to a better neighborhood… Where I went to a better school. Where I met my wife. So we could get married… And have beautiful children… And move across the country, to a no-name town in the middle of North Carolina… To raise my family. And have this wonderful career. Where I can help people like me, people like you… To help them smile… Help them laugh… And bring joy to their life… All while helping give financial insights… Things we can actually use to make money. Because it’s not about getting rich and greedy… It’s about making enough to live… Making enough to be charitable… So we can help raise other people up… So we can bless them, just like those angels blessed my family during a dark time in our lives. Merry Christmas. I’m grateful to be here with you :) James Edward Editor, Market Stars Press --------------------------------------------------------------- Oh, before I forget… I’m grateful to announce we’ve released our first "introductory" product… [Called the AI Profit Playbook.]( It’s a little $7 book on the only AI stocks to buy… So you don’t have to get sucked into the hype and hoopla of the big AI craze right now. [(You’ll see why when you see this)]( There’s a little video from our friend (and resident expert) Mike Lee… Where he explains the methodology… What it is… Why it makes sense… All the stuff we want to give you… And how to get it. Of course, don’t feel obligated to get it. [But it’s just $7 bucks for now…]( And since our business is growing a little too fast… We’ll have to bump it back up to $49 soon. (Call it a Bidenomics sale, haha) We worked hard on it. And I promise you’ll love it. [Click here to check it out.]( --------------------------------------------------------------- MarketStarsPress.com Disclaimer The content provided in this email and on our website is meant for informational purposes only. It should not be interpreted as legal, tax, investment, financial, or any other form of advice. The information contained in this email and on our website does not constitute a solicitation, recommendation, endorsement, or offer by MarketStarsPress.com (owned by Sandpiper Marketing Group, LLC "SPMG") or our paid contributors including Michael Lee and Kenny Polcari. Please note that the content of this email and on our website is of a general nature and may not address the specific circumstances of any individual or entity. It is important to understand that the information presented here does not qualify as professional or financial advice, nor does it provide a comprehensive or complete statement on the matters discussed or the applicable laws. 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