I went to the bank today to cash in a handful of U.S. savings bonds that have been sitting in a lockbox for years, some of them as long as two decades, building up value.
These pieces of paper did absolutely nothing for the last twenty years except gather dust. Oh, and they provided an impetus for me to conjure up ideas of how I could use the money when I cashed them in. Someday. In the very distant future.
For a few of these pieces of paper, that day came today. The feeling of being handed a receipt with the total of the transaction was surreal.
All the waiting ended. Today.
Maybe that sounds rather melodramatic.
But get this: there’s a story to these bonds that is, I think, worth telling.
Before I could talk, heck, before I could do much more than spit up and cry and sleep, my grandparents and my great-grandmother began to invest in my future.
They entrusted my parents with a financial gift that bespeaks volumes about their character. The bonds I cashed today are representative of their generosity, their trust in my parents and their hope that I could do something worthwhile when I grew up.
Their ongoing generosity was a vote of confidence in my character – in the person I would become.
So I thought of them today when I handed the teller my endorsed bonds.
I thought of my great-grandmother, whose kind heart and generous spirit leaves an imprint on my soul today, years after her death.
I thought of my grandparents, whose legacy of generosity has radically impacted my own family, and, consequently, all of the people we come in contact with.
And I gave thanks.
While I’ll admit it was rather satisfying to make the government pay up, I was saddened to part with these pieces of paper.
Those bonds were a tangible reminder of an intangible gift.
People have believed in me since the moment I was born. Money is only a small piece of that. Really it’s the manifestation of something entirely invisible but far more powerful. When I was just a snot-nosed kid without any work skills to speak of, my family believed in me.
That’s some heavy responsibility.
I’m forced to ask myself a difficult question: What will I make of the opportunity I have been given?
Imagine with me for a moment:
What if there were human beings all over the world who were never offered comfort or confidence, wisdom or encouragement. Their dreams could never percolate because they were constantly pushed under the surface by people who called the would-be dreamers useless or stupid. The voices of disbelief would say that people will never amount to anything and everything is going to hell in a hand-basket anyway.
That would be a tragedy.
I resonate personally with these words spoken by Jesus to his friends, when they wanted to know if they were going to be held responsible for the way they lived. He told them:
“When someone has been given much, much will be required in return; and when someone has been entrusted with much, even more will be required.”
I have been given an invaluable gift: the gift of belief.
I become a thief if I fail to entrust others with the gift I have been given.
That’s the thing with generosity. Passing it on is requisite. Only once you have been generous can you experience the beauty of what others have done for you.
My hope is that we as human beings would become generous believers, living with open hands, encouraging tongues and a communal consciousness of the people to whom we owe our very lives.
May we walk the path of generosity and humility trodden by the many ordinary people with extraordinary hearts who came before us.
You are never alone.
And I believe in you.
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