November 10 – “On Economics”

Yesterday I was in the back yard, systematically trimming an out of control tree and quietly humming to myself, when through the soft bars of the latest song stuck in my head (the advertising ditty for Star Furniture – Gotta get to Star, gotta get to Star, gotta get to Star, different by design.  Aaahgggh) and just above the level of discernible sound since I wasn’t wearing my hearing aids, came a distant clop, clop, clop, clop.  I was fairly certain it wasn’t a horse, since it would have had to come through the house to approach from that particular direction.  I paused from my labors and concentrated more intensely.  It was definitely a clop, clop, but it had more of a cowboy boot sound to it, so I cried out, “What cowboy is that coming into my back yard?”  About that time little two-year-old Josiah rounded the corner, proudly declaring, “No, DadDad, I not cowboy.  I Bob the Builder.”  Sure enough, they weren’t cowboy boots.  Oh, they were boots, all right.  Big ones.  They came up to his knees and were strategically placed on the wrong feet, but they were not of the sort a cowboy would wear.  More likely they would adorn the appendages of a farmer or … Bob the Builder.  He verified his self-introduction by pointing out that his shirt had a picture of a truck on it.  And later I found out from Chris that it was crucial to his peace of mind that his underwear match his shirt, whether it be Bob the Builder or Spiderman or Superman.  If the shirt and undies don’t match, he cannot effectively face the day. 

Now when he joined me I was gather together the scattered limbs into one big pile before I carried them to the street.  Josiah-Bob took in the situation and made an offer, “I help you?”  I like that simple, straightforward.  I welcomed the assistance and he actually tossed more than a few sticks onto the pile.  When we completed that portion of the task, I went inside for a quick drink of water.  I also wanted to carry out an experiment with Josiah’s two older brothers.  I took two quarters to his Mom and, loud enough for both of them to hear, said, “Here is Josiah’s paycheck for helping me in the backyard.  Whoever works around here gets paid.”  I casually glanced in the direction of the other two as I said that last part.  The older one, Jachin, was engrossed in a new library book.  Middle Child Micah appeared to be reading as well, but when he heard my proclamation his ears seemed to wiggle and his head whipped around in my direction.  I didn’t say any more.  I just quietly walked through the back door and resumed my task.

I didn’t take long, though.  Here came Micah, shoes on and ready for … whatever it was that Josiah had been paid to do.  He was ready.  I showed him what the last stage of our job was, hauling the pile of branches out to the street so they could be picked up by the trash truck.  He jumped right in.  I must say he did an admirable job for a focused six-year-old.  He even went above and beyond the call of duty and retrieved the small pieces that inevitably fall from your grasp as you walk along.  It didn’t take long to finish.  Two can accomplish more, and more quickly, than one.  We retired to the house. 

Once inside I decided to take this opportunity to teach a quick economics lesson.  I approached Micah, “Have you discussed what a budget is yet in school?”  They are actually homeschooled by their Mom, so it was certainly conceivable.  His blank look indicated they had not, so I continued.  “It’s like this.  I had budgeted – or set aside - six quarters to get this job done.  Josiah helped stack the branches, so he received two of them.  How many quarters do I have left?”  Micah’s eyes lit up.  This was about money.  The arithmetic started turning in his head, and before long he came up with an answer, four fingers went up.  “That’s what I came up with, too,” I said, pulling four quarters from my pocket and setting them on the counter.  “Now if I gave Josiah two for working, and you also worked, how many should I give you?”  Didn’t take long for him to stake a claim to his well-earned fifty cent paycheck.  But I continued, “So Josiah has two and you have two.  How many does that leave me?”  Again, he quickly ascertained the correct answer, “Two.”  And I continued, “So my budget was six quarters.  I have only used four of them and the job is done.  So what do I do with the other two?”  His eyes grew wide, but he was hesitant to make any suggestions.  Wise move.  By this time I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Jachin had put his book down and was listening to the interaction.  I continued, “Here’s what I think.  All this money left over was going to be spent anyway.  I was totally prepared to spend it all on this job.  So here’s what I’ll do.  You did your job.  But you did more than I asked.  You ran back and picked up the little pieces we dropped.  You worked with a smile on your face and didn’t gripe even once.  I like your attitude.  So I’m going to reward you with what is called a bonus.”  I pushed the last two quarters toward him.  Again his eyes grew large as he grabbed them and put them in his pocket, “I have a whole dollar now.”  There you go, Micah.  That’s the way economics is supposed to work.

Psalms 37:16-17 says, “Better the little that the righteous have than the wealth of many wicked; for the power of the wicked will be broken, but the Lord upholds the righteous.”

Father, help Micah and the other children of our country get a handle on how economics is supposed to work so they can make a difference in the future.  Amen.