I just finished writing a birthday card to Jacqueline, my soon-to-be 22-year-old granddaughter. I slipped a $50 bill into the card.
And then I got to thinking. I added a note to explain to her that I really didn’t like sending money but that it did seem better than sending a gift that she might not need or want. I know how much money she makes as a brand new registered nurse and I know that $50 is a drop in the proverbial bucket.
Then I got to thinking and decided to share a small bit of family history with her. I remembered that Evelyn, my husband’s only aunt and great aunt to my children, never forgot any of their birthdays.
On each occasion she sent a little white card with a cute sticker on it to the birthday boy or girl. Taped next to the sticker was a quarter. In the same envelope were another three little white cards with the other kids’ names on them, stickers, and with a shiny dime attached for each of them.
A quarter wasn’t much, even a half century ago. The money was not the point. She remembered their birthdays and their unbirthdays as well, and that was what mattered.
I’m hoping that Jacqueline will understand and get a chuckle out of that bit of history.