This week, I had to do something I hadn’t done before: go to the bank and deal with fraud in my checking account.
Someone tried to write a check for $1800 from my account. Fortunately, I didn’t have that much money in my account, and I was a little provoked. How dare they?
When I was young, I didn’t have an official bank account. I actually did not need a bank account at that time. My grandmother gave me a little blue piggy bank.
When she gave it to me, she said, “Now, make sure you put money into this piggy bank every week.” Then she handed me my first two quarters for my piggy bank.
I hid my little piggy bank in my bedroom so nobody could find it. Every time I got some money, I made sure I put some of it in the piggy bank.
Next door to where we lived was a little country store. It sold mostly food, like soda, ice cream, cookies and the like. Whenever my little piggy bank had enough money in it, I’ld take some out and go to the little country store and get myself a well-deserved treat.
For many years, that bank served me quite well. It was always there when I needed it, and as far as I knew, nobody else knew it was there. Unfortunately, nobody contributed to my bank.
Now, sitting in the bank trying to get my account in order, I thought of my little piggy bank. I have no idea what happened to it. I’d love to see it again and see if had any coins in it.
Whenever I got any money, I put some of it in the piggy, and I can never remember counting it. I just knew it was there. I thought about all of the presents I bought my parents and siblings with the saved money.
The bank finally fixed my account, and I was ready to leave.
Driving home, I couldn’t help but think of how much that little bank was a blessing. If I hadn’t had the bank that my grandmother gave me, I never would’ve saved any money. I would’ve spent it as soon as I got it.
Every time I got alone with my grandmother, which wasn’t often, she’d whisper, “How’s your little piggy bank doing?” and then she’d hand me two quarters to put into piggy.
Would it be appropriate for me to buy all of my grandchildren little piggy banks? Would they use them the way I used mine?
I thought of a relevant Bible verse that is usually misquoted.
“For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.”
— 1 Timothy 6: 10
Money isn’t a problem, but the “love of money” is. Money is important to life, but if we allow it to become an obsession, it takes my mind off what’s important.
I need to use what little money I have to live a life pleasing to the Lord. Money can be a blessing or a curse.
Dr. Snyder is a former pastor who lives with the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, wife Martha, in Ocala, Fla. His email is [email protected].
