This week, I had to do something I hadn't done before: go to the bank and deal with fraud in my checking account. Someone tried to write a check for $1800 from my account. Fortunately, I didn't have that much money in my account, and I was a little provoked by this incident. How dare they!

I sat with the bank advisor dealing with this issue and getting my account back to normal. They had to issue me a new card because they were closing my checking account.

As I waited for all of this to process, I felt a little thought dance in my head. Whatever happened to my little piggy bank? It never gave me trouble like this.

When I was young, I didn't have an official bank account. I actually did not need a bank account at that time. My grandmother gave me a little blue piggy bank. When she gave it to me, she said, "Now, make sure you put money into this piggy bank every week." Then-9 she handed me my first two quarters for my piggy bank.

I was so excited because I really needed the money; the only problem was that my grandmother had not told me anything about where the money was going to come from.

It took me a while to realize I had to put money in myself. That little piggy bank was not a magic money machine.

I hid my little piggy bank in my bedroom so nobody could find it. Every time I got some money, I made sure I put some of it in the piggy bank. Over time, the money grew in that little piggy bank.

For as long as I had that piggy bank, I do not know any time when somebody took money out of it without my permission. I would have thought that every bank had that kind of precaution.

The times I used that little piggy bank were wonderful memories.

Next door to where we lived was a little country store. It sold mostly food, like soda, ice cream, cookies and the like. Whenever my little piggy bank had enough money in it, I would take some out and go to the little country store and get myself a well-deserved treat.

I usually did it when nobody was watching because I did not want to use my own money to buy someone else a treat. You know how that is!

For many years, that little piggy bank served me quite well. It was always there when I needed it, and as far as I knew, nobody else knew it was there. Unfortunately, nobody contributed to my piggy bank.

Then, I went to a Bible school in New York and left my piggyback behind. I did not think about it for quite a few years.

Now, sitting in the bank trying to get my account back in order, I happen to think of my little piggy bank. I have no idea what happened to it. I would love to see it again and there might be a few coins in that little bank.

My parents sold the house while I was away at the time, and I never found out what happened to my little piggy bank.

It has been over 60 years since I last saw that piggy bank, but I still relish fond memories of it.

Just before Christmas, when we were doing our Christmas shopping, I was able to delve into my little piggy bank to get some money for Christmas presents. I remember that first Christmas, I was very surprised at how much money was in that little piggy bank.

Whenever I got any money, I put some of it in the piggy bank, and I can never remember counting it. I just knew it was there. I thought about all of the presents I bought my parents and siblings with the money in my little piggy bank.

The bank finally fixed my account, and I was ready to leave. My piggy bank had never given me this much trouble.

Driving home, I could not help but think of how much that little piggy bank was a blessing. If I had not had that piggy bank that my grandmother gave me, I never would have saved any money. I would have spent it as soon as I got it.

Every time I got alone with my grandmother, which wasn't often, she would whisper, "How's your little piggy bank doing?" and then she would hand me two quarters to put into my piggy bank.

She was the only one who knew about that piggy bank. I guess that's what grandmothers are for.

Would it be appropriate for me to buy all of my grandchildren little piggy banks? Would they use them the way I used mine?

I thought of a Bible verse that is usually misquoted. “For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows” (1 Timothy 6:10).

Money isn’t our problem, but the “love of money.” Money is important to my daily life. If I allow money to become an obsession, it takes my mind off what is important. I need to use what little money I have to live a life pleasing unto the Lord.

Money can be a blessing or a curse.

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