There was a savings and loan down the street that offered incentives for good grades awhile back. Any kid who brought in their report card would get paid five dollars for mostly As. The launch included a party to get new customers and I took the girls. Back in third grade, five dollars felt like a reason to show up, so we did. 

 

I provided the fifty dollar minimum to get them started. For the next few years we went at the end of each term, sometimes tacking on monies from a birthday or small jobs. They proudly handed over the little book to the teller who congratulated them and deposited a few bucks in each account. Mostly we forgot about it. By the time they were in seventh grade, five dollars meant less, and even when I suggested it they were not keen to do the errand. 

 

Then one summer they got an official looking letter that said the accounts had been inactive long enough that they needed attention. They wanted us to walk through the door. The girls shrugged. 

 

"Let's just forget it. There isn't much there."

 

I offered to make it a fun morning, stopping first to close the accounts, then go for smoothies. They agreed. It turns out that it takes longer to extract your money than it does to deposit it, and we waited awhile for the right person to help us. After twenty minutes and signatures she was satisfied. 

 

"Here is one hundred and fifty three dollars. Each." She handed over the crisp bills.  I had the feeling she didn't want to. 

 

The twins' eyebrows went up. They were not expecting this much. 

 

"Thank you!" 

 

I thought about how memories from when we fell in love stay in safe keeping. For decades. Even though they have the power to afford us renewed hope, we are prone to write them off. 

 

But those pictures, and stories, and places are waiting for us. All we need to do is ask.