When my five-year-old daughter swore she’d never break her piggy bank until her 18th birthday, my husband smiled and made her a promise. Neither of us imagined that one accident, 12 years later, would uncover a secret he’d prayed we’d never find so soon.
Our daughter Maddie was five when she decided she was going to Harvard.
Not because anyone in our family had gone there.
Not because she’d seen the campus.
She’d watched a cartoon where one of the characters talked about going to a famous college, and from that moment on, she became completely convinced that Harvard was where she belonged.
James and I tried explaining that college was still a very long way off.
She folded her arms.
“I’ll save my own money.”
I smiled.
“Sweetheart, college costs a lot more than what your piggy bank can hold.”
“So I’ll get a really big piggy bank.”
James laughed.
“I like that plan.”
The next weekend, we took her shopping.
She ignored every toy in the store.
Every stuffed animal.
Every doll.
Instead, she walked straight to a bright pink ceramic piggy bank with tiny painted flowers along its sides.
“This one,” she declared.
“Because it looks responsible.”
James nearly choked trying not to laugh.
“Responsible?”
She nodded seriously. “It’ll take good care of my college money.”
That night, the three of us made a little ceremony out of dropping the first coins inside.
A dollar from me.
A dollar from James.
Two quarters from Maddie.
She shook the pig excitedly. “It already sounds richer.”
James crouched beside her.
“If we’re really doing this…” She looked at him expectantly. “…then we make one rule.”
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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