A first savings account.

{A post by Joe.}
Do you remember your first savings account?  I don't remember exactly when I opened it, but I know there were balloons, a free hot dog, snow cones, fridge magnets, face painting, and a clown making twisted balloon poodles/hats/light sabers, etc.

That was back in the good old days of the local Credit Union's Young Savers Day (or called something like that) where every child who put in another $10 or so into their account got to come to the party and get free gifts.  For a couple years, they were giving some pretty neat collapsable duffel bags that could zip end-to-end as round and flat as a frisbee.  I recall they were our typical beach bag growing up.

Well, this week we had a family council and talked about our move in a couple of weeks.  We talked about how we had saved up our money in the bank to make a down-payment, and how we were getting a mortgage to borrow the rest of the money we'd need from the bank.  Ian asked how long it would take us to pay back what we borrowed, and I told him about 30 years.  He seemed kind of concerned about that prospect, and offered, "Well, what if I save up and help pay the mortgage?  Then we could own the house a little faster?"  

What a noble offer!  I told him I appreciated his help, but he had some very important things to be saving for as well, like his mission and college.  He wanted to open a savings account.  Recalling a deal that my parents had made with me, Jen and I offered the same plan: Any money he would tuck away at the bank for savings we would match 1 for 1.

He was really looking forward to this, and prepared his money on Friday night for a visit to the bank on Saturday morning.  He uses one of those LDS divided banks (tithing, spending, savings) and made sure everything was in order with his tithing and spending money, then counted out $3.06 to take to the bank.  I gave him another $3.06, and he put it in a little zip lock bag and then he labelled it.  "6$ 12c"

On Saturday, Ian, Blake and I walked to the bank, and we talked about the things he might do with his savings some day.  When we arrived, the bank was empty of customers.  Three ladies sat at their stools behind the glass chatting.  At my urging, he went up to one of the tellers and said, "I'd like to open an account, please."  The response, which was just as steady and professional as though Ian were any adult new customer was, "Please step into the first office, and I"ll be right with you!"  I was so proud of him.

Through the process, Ian provided all the information about himself and his contact information, except his mother's maiden name (that's a tough one!).  After a few forms and co-signer signatures, he was presented with a pass-book.  He proudly carried his folder of documents tucked under his arm the whole way home.  I hope he remembers what it felt like to be "in charge" of setting up his own savings account-- he really takes pride in doing adult things like that.

Not alot of fanfare for the event, but he took it very seriously, and is eager to periodically make some deposits.  For the record, I did call Granddaddy, and when he heard, he said, "Did you get a free duffel bag?"  Sorry, not this time!