him on the trip and while we were in Chicago with her we took her to nice restaurants and gave her money when we left.

When I asked her about it, she had forgotten the money and the restaurants. What did she remember about the trip? She remembered that we drove for two days so she wouldn’t have to and that her Dad took her on a dry run from the hotel to the freeway so that she could find her way without getting lost in the bad part of Chicago.

Why is that what she remembers? Because her father took something he could barely afford to sacrifice—his time

Recently, a friend said, “When you give money to people, it validates them.” I immediately agreed. After all, I like the feeling I get when people give me money. I would even say it makes me feel validated. If it’s a paycheck, I think, “Wow! They’re giving me money for what I do; I must be doing a good job.” If it’s a birthday gift, I think “Wow! I’m getting money just for being born, I must be worthwhile,” and then I stick it in the family bank account to be lost forever.

For some reason, my mind got stuck on the idea and I began to chew it over like an errant fingernail… is money really the best way to validate others? Does that mean everything else is second best? What does this mean for our children? If we hardly have two nickels to rub together, will our children spend their lives invalidated?

After all, some of the important things in life that our children need cost money, and sometimes lots of it. Music lessons… a college education… dependable transportation… insurance for the dependable transportation… respectable clothing. These things have great power to help them feel valued.

I asked my husband if he thought money was the best way to show others that we value them. He mentioned the wedding gift his parents had given us—cash. (Oh yeah. I had forgotten.) But we both remembered in great detail the time they drove 750 miles one way when our first child was born to bring her great-grandparents out to see their first great-grandchild. My husband’s parents and grandparents fussed over our new baby… took her for walks and took picture after picture for an entire day, then got up early the next morning to make the 750 mile drive back home. My husband and I will never forget that. It meant everything to us. Why? Because they had sacrificed the most precious thing they have, their time.

Twenty-one years later, my husband did a similar thing for that same daughter. She was in Chicago preparing for a new job in Washington DC, her car was in Utah. Without hesitation, my husband offered to drive her car to her in Chicago so she wouldn’t have to drive all the way from Utah to DC by herself. She was touched that he would be willing to miss work, use up vacation days and rearrange his schedule to do that for her. I joined him on the trip and while we were in Chicago with her we took her to nice restaurants and gave her money when we left.

When I asked her about it, she had forgotten the money and the restaurants. What did she remember about the trip? She remembered that we drove for two days so she wouldn’t have to and that her Dad took her on a dry run from the hotel to the freeway so that she could find her way without getting lost in the bad part of Chicago.

Why is that what she remembers? Because her father took something he could barely afford to sacrifice—his time.

rant fingernail… is money really the best way to validate others? Does that mean everything else is second best? What does this mean for our children? If we hardly have two nickels to rub together, will our children spend their lives invalidated?

After all, some of the important things in life that our children need cost money, and sometimes lots of it. Music lessons… a college education… dependable transportation… insurance for the dependable transportation… respectable clothing. These things have great power to help them feel valued.

I asked my husband if he thought money was the best way to show others that we value them. He mentioned the wedding gift his parents had given us—cash. (Oh yeah. I had forgotten.) But we both remembered in great detail the time they drove 750 miles one way when our first child was born to bring her great-grandparents out to see their first great-grandchild. My husband’s parents and grandparents fussed over our new baby… took her for walks and took picture after picture for an entire day, then got up early the next morning to make the 750 mile drive back home. My husband and I will never forget that. It meant everything to us. Why? Because they had sacrificed the most precious thing they have, their time.

Twenty-one years later, my husband did a similar thing for that same daughter. She was in Chicago preparing for a new job in Washington DC, her car was in Utah. Without hesitation, my husband offered to drive her car to her in Chicago so she wouldn’t have to drive all the way from Utah to DC by herself. She was touched that he would be willing to miss work, use up vacation days and rearrange his schedule to do that for her. I joined him on the trip and while we were in Chicago with her we took her to nice restaurants and gave her money when we left.

When I asked her about it, she had forgotten the money and the restaurants. What did she remember about the trip? She remembered that we drove for two days so she wouldn’t have to and that her Dad took her on a dry run from the hotel to the freeway so that she could find her way without getting lost in the bad part of Chicago.

Why is that what she remembers? Because her father took something he could barely afford to sacrifice—his time

nd if he thought money was the best way to show others that we value them. He mentioned the wedding gift his parents had given us—cash. (Oh yeah. I had forgotten.) But we both remembered in great detail the time they drove 750 miles one way when our first child was born to bring her great-grandparents out to see their first great-grandchild. My husband’s parents and grandparents fussed over our new baby… took her for walks and took picture after picture for an entire day, then got up early the next morning to make the 750 mile drive back home. My husband and I will never forget that. It meant everything to us. Why? Because they had sacrificed the most precious thing they have, their time.

Twenty-one years later, my husband did a similar thing for that same daughter. She was in Chicago preparing for a new job in Washington DC, her car was in Utah. Without hesitation, my husband offered to drive her car to her in Chicago so she wouldn’t have to drive all the way from Utah to DC by herself. She was touched that he would be willing to miss work, use up vacation days and rearrange his schedule to do that for her. I joined him on the trip and while we were in Chicago with her we took her to nice restaurants and gave her money when we left.

When I asked her about it, she had forgotten the money and the restaurants. What did she remember about the trip? She remembered that we drove for two days so she wouldn’t have to and that her Dad took her on a dry run from the hotel to the freeway so that she could find her way without getting lost in the bad part of Chicago.

Why is that what she remembers? Because her father took something he could barely afford to sacrifice—his time

never forget that. It meant everything to us. Why? Because they had sacrificed the most precious thing they have, their time.

Twenty-one years later, my husband did a similar thing for that same daughter. She was in Chicago preparing for a new job in Washington DC, her car was in Utah. Without hesitation, my husband offered to drive her car to her in Chicago so she wouldn’t have to drive all the way from Utah to DC by herself. She was touched that he would be willing to miss work, use up vacation days and rearrange his schedule to do that for her. I joined him on the trip and while we were in Chicago with her we took her to nice restaurants and gave her money when we left.

When I asked her about it, she had forgotten the money and the restaurants. What did she remember about the trip? She remembered that we drove for two days so she wouldn’t have to and that her Dad took her on a dry run from the hotel to the freeway so that she could find her way without getting lost in the bad part of Chicago.

Why is that what she remembers? Because her father took something he could barely afford to sacrifice—his time

him on the trip and while we were in Chicago with her we took her to nice restaurants and gave her money when we left.

When I asked her about it, she had forgotten the money and the restaurants. What did she remember about the trip? She remembered that we drove for two days so she wouldn’t have to and that her Dad took her on a dry run from the hotel to the freeway so that she could find her way without getting lost in the bad part of Chicago.

Why is that what she remembers? Because her father took something he could barely afford to sacrifice—his time.

Hmmmm.