As I look ahead to the distant future, I often imagine the day when my children will be grown, standing firmly on their own feet, making decisions for their own families. And when that time comes, I pray that they will remember the lessons I planted in their hearts—lessons not only about life and responsibility, but also about stewardship, discipline, gratitude, and the fear of the Lord.
From the time they were in kindergarten, I wanted them to understand the value of what God places in their hands. So I began giving them a weekly allowance—just one euro per week—not simply as pocket money, but as a tool to cultivate godly wisdom. I wanted to show them early that every blessing, however small, is meant to be stewarded with care.
This training was intentional. I taught them that money is not simply something to spend, but something entrusted to them by God. I wanted them to learn how to use it wisely, to distinguish needs from desires, and to recognize that discipline today builds fruit for tomorrow.
When they each turned eighteen, I helped them open their first credit cards. I told them, “A credit card can be a blessing or a trap. When you use it wisely, it can help you. But if you misuse it, it can destroy your peace and your future.” I prayed that they would take this truth to heart—that they would remember everything I had taught them since their earliest childhood.
To my relief and thanksgiving, they did. Because they had practiced saving since they were very small, they naturally understood that if they wanted something, they couldn’t simply throw a tantrum or beg for it. They had to save for it. They had to wait. They had to choose.
As their mother, I felt responsible to help provide what they needed, but I also made it clear: “Needs are different from desires. I will help you with needs. But if it’s something you want only out of desire, then you must save for it yourselves.”
By the grace of God, they learned that difference early in life.
The Day My Daughter Lost Her 20 Euros
I still remember the day we first began giving them allowances. They were only four and five years old—far too young, I thought, to truly understand how to use money. But I also believed that children learn not only by words but by life itself—by experiencing consequences and responsibility.
One day, my daughter told me she wanted to buy books with the money she had carefully saved. She proudly held a 20-euro bill in her small hand, waving it happily in the air as we walked into the bookstore.
I told her gently, “Sweetheart, don’t carry money like that. Keep it in your pocket, or you might lose it.”
But she didn’t listen. She kept waving it around, unaware of how fragile and temporary blessings can be when we don’t guard them.
After thoughtfully wandering through the bookstore, she picked two books she really wanted. We walked to the cashier, her tiny hands holding the books with excitement.
But when she reached into her hand for the money…
It wasn’t there.
The 20-euro bill had disappeared.
At first, she froze. Then I saw the panic spreading across her face. Her eyes grew wide, and she began searching her pockets, her coat, the floor—everywhere. But the money was gone.
Perhaps she had dropped it while browsing. Perhaps it had slipped from her hand without her noticing. Either way, the money was lost.
My heart broke for her. She had saved so carefully, and now everything was gone.
And as a mother, I felt torn in two.
Part of me wanted to pull out my wallet and pay for her books myself. I wanted to comfort her, to make everything better, to wipe away the sorrow on her face.
But the other part of me—the part guided by the Holy Spirit—knew I had to stand firm.
I had warned her to put the money in her pocket. She had ignored the instruction, and now she was learning the weight of that choice.
If I rescued her now, what lesson would she learn?
That responsibilities can be avoided?
That consequences don’t matter because Mommy will always fix everything?
No—a deeper lesson needed to take root. A lesson that would serve her for the rest of her life.
So I made the very difficult decision to leave the store without buying the books.
I felt like the cruelest mother in the world.
My daughter walked out with tears in her eyes—her dream of new books shattered, her precious savings gone.
And I walked out fighting tears of my own.
But later, I realized that God was using that moment.
From that day on, my daughter became extremely careful with her money. She kept every bill folded neatly in her pocket or wallet. Every coin was stored in a jar with care. She took responsibility seriously, and she began to understand stewardship—not as a rule, but as wisdom.
Looking back, I thank God for giving me the strength to be firm. It taught her something far more valuable than 20 euros.
The Lesson My Son Learned in Front of the Cashier
Another day, my daughter had saved enough money to buy a new set of colored pencils she had wanted. When we went to the store, my son, seeing her choose something new, suddenly wanted one too.
His purchase wasn’t planned. It was pure impulse—simply because his sister was buying something.
I knelt down and explained, “If you want to buy this, you must use your own money. You cannot keep your money and take this home. You must exchange one for the other.”
He nodded seriously, as if he understood.
When my daughter finished paying, it was his turn. Proudly, he handed the money to the cashier, his face glowing with excitement over his first purchase.
But the moment the cashier gave him the colored pencil set and did not return his money…
He froze.
He stood there staring at her, expecting his money back.
When nothing happened, tears filled his eyes.
“She’s not giving my money back,” he whispered, his voice trembling.
And then he began to cry—loudly.
I gently explained, right there in the store, “Sweetheart, when you receive something you want, you must give your money in exchange. That is how buying works.”
But he wasn’t prepared.
He hadn’t planned to spend his savings.
He felt as if something precious had been stolen from him.
People lined up behind us, so we stepped aside. His sister tried to comfort him, offering some of her coins. Finally, we left the store together.
At home, I sat with him and explained again.
“You didn’t plan this purchase. It was impulse. When impulse controls us, we lose—not only money but peace. That’s why we must think before spending. We must always leave room, always keep some money saved, and not use everything we have.”
He listened quietly, clutching the few coins his sister had shared with him.
And I believe that moment planted a seed in him—one that will help him resist impulse and choose wisdom throughout his life.
Parenting, Stewardship, and the Heart of God
As I reflect on these moments, I realize they were not merely about money. They were about discipleship.
Just as I was teaching my children how to handle their earthly possessions, God has been teaching me how to handle the blessings He entrusts to me.
Sometimes He blesses us with much, sometimes with little.
Sometimes He warns us to guard what He has given.
Sometimes He allows us to feel the weight of our mistakes.
And sometimes, out of love, He refuses to rescue us from consequences—because He loves us enough to let wisdom grow.
This is the heart of Christian stewardship.
It isn’t only about money.
It’s about character.
It’s about training our hearts to honor God with every choice we make.
Just as Proverbs teaches,
“Train up a child in the way he should go;
even when he is old he will not depart from it.”
—Proverbs 22:6
I pray that my children will grow into adults who understand:
- the difference between needs and desires
- the value of working for what they want
- the importance of discipline
- and the joy of living as faithful stewards of God’s blessings
And I pray that someday, when they live their own lives, they will look back and say:
“Mom taught us well.
She wasn’t always soft, but she loved us enough to guide us in God’s way.”
I’m excited—and curious—to see what kind of adults they will become, how they will steward their lives, and how God will use them. But I trust that the seeds planted today will bear fruit in the years ahead.
Because every lesson, every tear, every conversation, and every moment of discipline…
was an offering to God.
And He is faithful to complete the work He begins.