As a financial adviser, I spend much of my day talking with people about money. We discuss saving, investing, retirement, charitable giving and all the practical ways money impacts our lives. But some of the most meaningful conversations I have about money don’t happen in my office. They happen across the dinner table with my son.
Like most parents, my husband and I want him to understand the value of a dollar. We want him to learn that you don’t have to buy something simply because you can afford it. We want him to understand the difference between wanting something and needing something and, perhaps most importantly, that sometimes the best financial decision is to wait. That’s one reason I believe financial education should begin long before a child receives a paycheck or opens an investment account. Some of the most important lessons about money have very little to do with math. They’re about choices.
Do I spend this now or save it for later?
Do I need this, or do I simply want it?
If I have more than I need, can some of what I have help someone else?
That last question has become especially meaningful in our family. My son attends a school where students spend Fridays volunteering throughout the community. As part of those experiences, they’re often encouraged to bring a donation for the organization they are serving. At first, it was simple. “Mom, I need to bring a donation on Friday.” But as he learned more about the organizations and the people they help, something changed. He started asking if we could give more. Not because a teacher told him to. Because he wanted to.
Those moments have led to some of the best conversations we’ve had as a family. We’ve talked about how fortunate we are, why nonprofits matter and why those who can help have an opportunity to do so. And I’ve realized that while I’m trying to teach my son about money, he’s reminding me what money is for. Spend. Save. Give. When parents ask me how to teach children financial responsibility, I like to keep it simple. Money can generally do three things: we can spend it, save it or give it. Children benefit from experiencing all three. Let them spend some money and occasionally make a purchase they regret. A small mistake can be an inexpensive lesson. Let them save toward something they truly want so they experience the value of patience and delayed gratification. And let them give. Better yet, let them help decide where the money goes. When children understand who they’re helping and why, generosity becomes something they participate in rather than something they’re told to do.
Teaching the Pause
One of the most valuable financial skills we can teach children has nothing to do with stocks, interest rates or budgeting. It’s the ability to pause. We live in a world designed to eliminate that pause. One click, same-day delivery and instant gratification are everywhere. So, when my son wants something, sometimes the answer isn’t “no.” It’s “not today.” Let’s wait. Let’s see if you still want it tomorrow.
Those simple conversations teach a much larger lesson: just because you can spend money doesn’t mean you should. The habits we build with small decisions today often shape much larger decisions later in life.
The Legacy We Leave
In my professional life, conversations about legacy often involve estate plans, investment accounts and charitable gifts. Those things matter. But becoming a parent has made me think about legacy differently. I’ve found that the families who create the most meaningful legacies aren’t always the ones with the largest accounts. More often, they’re the ones who pass along strong values alongside their financial resources.
Long before our children inherit anything from us, they’re watching us. They’re watching how we talk about money. They’re watching whether we appreciate what we have. They’re watching whether we’re willing to help when we have enough to share. I hope someday my son understands the importance of saving and investing wisely. I hope he builds financial security for himself and his family. But I also hope he’s generous. I hope he understands how fortunate he is. And I hope that when he encounters someone who needs help, his instinct is still the one I’m beginning to see in him now: Can we give a little more?
As a financial adviser, I can teach him how money grows. As his mom, I hope to teach him why it matters. Because in the end, the greatest wealth we leave our children isn’t measured in dollars. It’s measured in the values, habits, kindness and generosity they carry forward long after we’re gone.
— From Sand Castles, October 2026
