One year, Dad decided to make each of us a bank that was cleverly disguised as a miniature safe. He and my mom scoured the second-hand shops until they found a set of old post office boxes that could be repurposed and transformed into the doors for our tiny safes. I don't think Dad thought of it as upcycling back then. He was simply creating something unique and special for his children.
The end result sent our imaginations into overdrive as we schemed about all of the amazing treasures we could lock away, safe from prying eyes. Dad took us aside, one at a time, to pass on the secret two-letter combination, which we promptly committed to heart and vowed never to share with another soul.
Today, I passed my bank on to my son. It had been safely tucked away on a shelf in my closet for the past few years. His great-grandparents like to send him and Miss C. a dollar or two on Halloween, Valentine's Day and other lesser holidays, so I was thinking about buying him a piggy bank. This is much better.
I have so few things I can pass on to my son, since most of my childhood mementos are incredibly girly. But this little bank was a part of my childhood, something made just for me by my dad, Master W.'s Papa.
In a few years, I'll break my childhood vow and share the safe's combination with my son so he can have a special place for his treasures and secrets.