TREASURE CHEST

Reenactment: cash stash

I had just emptied my can of baking soda when a memory flashed: of my dad, on payday, rolling money into an empty red baking powder can that he hid in a dresser drawer. That was his routine for saving out cash for ongoing household expenses. He just kept just a little money at a time in his wallet, gave some to Mom, and replenished as needed from the hidden can. 

My dad (1915-1978) reflected the frugal practices of his time, when money (to most) came with hard labor. Cash ruled, not credit cards and online finances. I do know that as the sole breadwinner, he budgeted carefully, saved for a rainy day, and used-up and wore-out to stretch the family income. He also faithfully set aside a tithe, supporting the church and a special mission.

In Bible times, without locked doors and other security we enjoy, some folks buried their money in fields! That practice colored Jesus' teaching about real treasures: 

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:19)

Centuries later, people still had odd (and often insecure) ways to “hide money.” Some people used a sock! That included an older woman in the 1850s whose granddaughter had married a hard-working but impoverished guy with undeveloped music talent.

Born into an impoverished but devout home, Philip Bliss was ten years old before he heard a piano for the first time. He was trying to sell his family's garden produce in a wealthy neighborhood when he overheard a woman practicing a piano in her parlor. Curious and intrigued, he slipped into the home to hear better. She quickly shooed him away. But as he grew up, taking hard labor jobs, he held onto his dream of learning to play music and compose Gospel songs. Music training would help. This was a financial pipe dream until his wife's grandmother, believing in his talent and calling, pulled an old bulging sock from a hiding place. Maybe her dresser! It was filled with coins she'd saved that added up to $30. In today's money, it wouldn't seem like much, but in those times, $129 was the average wage for a year. It was enough for him to enroll in a six-week music school. And the rest is history.

Bliss went on to become one of the most famous Gospel musicians in America. He tragically died (along with his wife and about 90 others) in a train wreck. Only 38, he was already well-known as a musician associated with famed evangelist D.L. Moody. And it was Moody who sadly officiated at the couple's funeral, for which 8,000 filled the hall and another 4,000 stood outside in bitter winter weather.

Some of the dozens of hymns associated with him: “Hold the Fort,” “Jesus Loves Even Me,” “Almost Persuaded,” “Hallelujah, What a Savior,” “Wonderful Words of Life,” “I Will Sing of My Redeemer,” “Let the Lower Lights be Burning,” and the tune to Spafford's famed “It Is Well With My Soul.”

Had he lived longer, there would have been more. Still, it's worth remembering that a simple old “sock bank” of coins—his wife's grandma's legacy—propelled him toward the role God had for his life. It also should cause us to stop and think: what has God entrusted to me? Something buried in the ground (or knotted away in a sock of fear or stubbornness), or responsibly shared? It can't happen if we hide our “God-money” of ability and faith.

P.S. Interesting: my dad's humble red baking powder can (long-ago tossed) now sells for $11-58 on antique resell web sites!