Skip to main content

My Bank Is a Blessing!


I admit.  I'm a news junkie.  I listen to the depressing news and end up having to debrief!!  With all of the bad experiences with banks across the nation... I've just considered how thankful I am for my bank!


When I grew up, the banker came to our house along with the bookkeeper to go over the ranch's needs for the following year.  It was just what Dad did and when we had to go in for something, we knew them and it was a comfortable place to be.  But we made money once a year when we sold a calf and then spent it all.  Neither my husband nor I had a clue.


My bank here opened their doors to us when we moved in.  And no....I'm not one of those individuals like my Uncle that find banks vying for my business!!


 My bank has people who have the heart of a teacher.  They have met with each of my boys and we go through the ritual at 14 or 15 years old or opening up their first checking and they get a debit card.  At this time, the bankers (friends in my mind) taught the boys all of the things they need to know.  They gave them a book about savings and teach them how to use the register.  Even though they had a savings account-moving to a checking was made a BIG deal.   


When my oldest turned 19 and his account was separated from mine and we started his long term savings, we again sat with the banker learning about consistent and automatic savings and planning for retirement and the future.  Soon, I will be doing this with my second son.


These traditions and connections with my bank and the open relationship we have with them has given me the confidence I need to "do a better job" with my finances.  It has also given my boys a great foundation for having a relationship with the banks in their future!!


Thankful for my bank....hmmm...this is a new tradition!!!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Starting a Journey

September 3, 2010 Originally posted How to Begin a Journey 1. Pick a destination or simply start. 2. Plan a detailed itinerary or just take the first step. 3. Pack everything or travel lightly. I am choosing to just begin. To leave behind the baggage, pick up a day pack, and go. Several nights before we moved to Ogallala, I was praying about the transition when I heard that still, small voice of God. In that moment, I knew He heard my Heart's Cry. He hears every whispered plea, every unspoken longing. If I truly sit with that truth, it humbles me. What courage, boldness, passion, and decisiveness I have when I remember: He never leaves or forsakes me. He provides for my every need according to His riches in glory. My hope is to encourage you He hears your Heart's Cry too.
2 comments
Read more

1940 Canned Apple Butter: Family Root Cellar

I loved exploration as a child.  From opening the door and going down the stairs to get something from my Grandma's root cellar or exploring old homesteads while checking cows.  I credit my Mom with teaching us to appreciate those things that represented the people who had gone before us. When I moved with my husband and boys to a house on the family ranch-I began exploring immediately.  This was the house my Aunt and Uncle lived in during my childhood.  My Grandparents had lived there and many other families dating back to 1900 when it was built.   With two little boys in tow, I made my way to the root cellar and found a treasure cove.  Old text books belonging to the original family who had been a teacher, the original medicine cupboard, tools, trash and memorabilia.   I felt like an archeologist sifting through layers of debris representing generations and culture.  And I was.  I hauled truckloads of trash to the dump (some...
4 comments
Read more

Diabetes-Opened to Disease OR Open to Connecting to my Strengths

I've tried living in denial for two years after the big D diagnoses was handed over.  Honestly, I just don't want to talk about it.  Outwardly seemly calm and disconnected from it.  Inwardly terrified. As a plant that is stressed is open to disease, injury and death so to our bodies are.  I opened myself up to this.  Stress, lack of sleep, bad nutrition, overweight and lack of exercise.  For some reason I believed that if I ran fast enough and worked hard enough, I would outrun my family genes.  The tiny room in the back of my brain locked with a key has kept the fear of this disease at bay even though I could hear its screaming when life quieted down. My Aunt died piece by piece to this disease.  First a heart attack and quadruple by-pass.  Then a toe.  Next a foot.  Legs came next along with more heart attacks.  Kidneys shutting down.  She died very young. When I was little, my Aunt Ally gave herself s...
4 comments
Read more