Sometimes they melt your heart
As parents we have many “Awwww” moments.
I had one last week when I got home from work. My youngest son met me at the door. He was very anxious to tell me something.
But before I get to the “awww” moment, I need to put the situation into context.
My six-year-old son is obsessed with money. It’s all he talks about. It’s all he thinks about.
He’s forever asking me about chores he can do so he can get paid. And he doesn’t just want one or two chores, the other day he asked for 12.
He always wants me to count the money in his piggy bank. As soon as we have a roll of change, he wants to go to the bank to cash it in – never mind that it’s only two rolls of pennies.
The other day he asked me to count some Canadian Tire money that is now making its home in his wallet.
“How much is this?” he wanted to know.
“It’s $1.40,” I told him.
“Yeah, but how much is it?”
“It’s $1.40.”
“Yeah, but how much is that?”
“It’s 140 cents.”
“Wow, 140 cents!” he exclaimed.
Not long ago I was somewhere and I heard this loud crash. I glanced over my shoulder to see him lying flat on his back with a table lying on top of him.
“Oh my God!” I shouted, “What happened? Are you okay?” He lifted his hand to show me a nickel he had found in a paperclip holder on the table.
“Now I have enough for a roll,” he said.
Good grief.
Which brings me to last Monday.
“Do you know there are people that live in the world that don’t have a roof?” he told me. “When it rains they get wet. And they don’t have desks at school so they have to sit on the dirt. And they don’t have any money.”
And on and on he went.
I asked him how this made him feel.
“It makes me feel very bad for them,” he said.
It turned out my little first grader had learned about UNICEF at school that day. But gone are the days when kids go door-to-door on Halloween night with those orange boxes they used to carry. Instead the organization now relies on other ways to raise money.
My son reached into his pockets and started pulling out handfuls and handfuls of toonies, loonies, quarters, dimes, nickels and pennies that he had gotten out of his piggy bank.
“I’m going to give them this money,” he said.
“But weren’t you saving that money for yourself?” I asked him, to which he said, “I was, but not anymore.”
Okay, time to cue the sound effects:
“Awwww…….”