Just a little rich

Feeling rich is a lovely feeling – you stand a bit taller, gaze a bit straighter, smile a bit wider and sleep a bit sounder. Feeling rich is certainly a lovely feeling. However, finding this feeling can be quite confronting in a world that teaches us that the best green isn’t the kind that hangs on trees and the best kind of piggies aren’t the ones which jump in muddy puddles but rather, the ones with slots on their backs.

It’s fascinating to meet a rich person.  Just the other day I unexpectedly met a world class millionaire under my own roof. Suddenly, I realised I am the wealthy mother of a millionaire!

My 5yr old daughter Shannon’s friend came by our house the other morning. This little friend is older to Shannon by a couple of years. During the game of dolls and kitchens my daughter’s friend spotted Shannon’s piggy bank – a small, rounded, pink pig. Her attention quickly shifted to the piggy and she excitedly offered to count Shannon’s money for her. I was happy too and felt that Shannon could benefit from a lesson in counting. The little girl proceeded to tell me how she has $120 in her own piggy bank, which she had earned by selling small paintings, and how her Dad has offered to match that amount to help her start her own baby bank account at school. I thought this was wonderful. My little Shannon seemed oblivious to this talk. She was more interested in separating the coins into gold and silver, small and big, round and octagon. Her friend deftly counted up and informed Shannon that she had $55 – an amount that we had, over a period of time, willingly given her in bits and pieces. This exercise was mostly because she is so fascinated by the idea of dropping coins into the box. Her friend announced excitedly, “Shannon, you’re just a little rich!”.

Shannon sat there smiling, clearly feeling just as stinking rich as she’d felt before this verdict.

And then it hit me. Our children are rich anyway. Money or no money.

Shannon lives an extravagant life. She makes it seem extravagant. She’s not afraid to express herself. She walks around our house clad in mismatched glad-rags, patchy make-up, funny trinkets, hair held back by clothes pegs, all with the air of a runway model. She flamboyantly spreads colours over countless sheets of paper with the full confidence that each piece of art is a priceless gem. How often does one get to see a horse with 24 legs? Some of her most priceless possessions over expensive toys, are empty boxes and silly little knick- knacks. She’s not afraid to throw a tantrum to get her way. But then she’s also equally magnanimous to us when when we fall short. She doesn’t seem to take notice when someone is rude to her. Even  if she does, she doesn’t hold on to the offence for too long. She doesn’t hold on to her money either. She recently asked me to buy her a house with a cow, a dog, a cubby house and a water slide in the backyard. I promised I would when I have the money. She very generously and matter- of- factly offered, just as she has on countless occasions, ” I have money in my piggy bank. You can use that”. I have sometimes asked her to lend me some change, out of her piggy bank, to pay for parking. And she has replied ,”Yeah sure, take the gold coloured coins, mamma, I have many”. The denominations on the coins obviously don’t influence her. Shannon stops to appreciate the flowers, the rainbows, the butterflies. She eats a sausage roll with utmost relish. Going to MacDonalds is fine dining to her. A park with one slide is just as good as one with ten. She contentedly falls asleep on my lap whether it be on the couch, in the car or on a bench. She always finds the silver lining. Shannon never got to meet her 3 day old sister, who passed away very suddenly in the NICU. One day she asked my husband and I when Jesus would send her another sister. We told her that He will send her another sibling but we don’t know if it will be a sister or a brother. Shannon thought for a second and cheerfully replied, “That’s okay, I already have a sister but I don’t have a brother”.

That special morning, as I gazed at my scrawny little girl, sitting on the floor next to her piggy bank, my perception of her changed. Here was a rich princess untouched and untarnished by the world and all it’s warped concepts.

Children understand and live the bigger truths of life much better than we ever can. Some of the happiest people in the world are little street urchins who have nothing and yet happily accept things the way they are. In fact, they turn their situation into a colourful one with just a little imagination. One’s wealth and happiness finally lies in being able to enjoy life’s little pleasures, not counting the costs and choosing to make the good stand out against the not so good. And very importantly, being able to live with a sense of imagination.

I’m not (yet!) rich in the eyes of the world but I’ve experienced those precious moments when, through the haze of life’s harder realities, I have seen my riches, haven’t you? Have you ever woken up hungry in the middle of a cold winter night and wandered into the kitchen to get a mug of warm milk? That feeling of climbing back under a warm blanket, comfortably full and drifting off to sleep…that’s a rich feeling. If only I could hold on to that feeling every moment – for me and for Shannon.

Shannon started kindergarten recently. I’m in no hurry to teach her the need to earn, it’s something she will have to learn and do anyway. I’m happy to give her petty change so she can enjoy watching the coins fall through the slot in her piggy bank. I know that the world will slowly teach her about numbers. It will slowly teach her that it’s the number on the coin that counts and not the colour or the shape. It will teach her that she’s only as good as the number in her bank account. It will teach her what ‘it’ thinks ‘rich’ is – just as it taught us. In the face of this reality, raising our kids to always, no matter what, find the princess/prince inside and to walk through this world always feeling ‘just a little rich’, is riches like no other.