My grandmother was generous to her grandchildren when she was living, and generous to her children upon her death. My dad has always been generous—I’ve seen him win $200 and turn around to donate it to charity—and he was extremely generous after my grandmother died. He chose to give part of his inheritance to my sister and me—$10,000 each.

Like many women of her time, my grandmother was a homemaker, and my grandfather had responsibility over all the money. She only found out how their finances worked once my grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and what she found made her frustrated.

She discovered that there had always been enough money to do certain things like renovate the kitchen, get working appliances, and really help out her children and grandchildren when they needed it—and she wished it had been used earlier.

The kitchen part really sticks in my mind, because my whole childhood, they only had an under-the-counter fridge. As I child I thought it wasn’t a real fridge, and as a teen, I wondered how much time was spent grocery shopping with eight people to feed.

Once Gran was in charge of the money, she really used it to help the family (and to buy a full-sized fridge).

She helped a family member with health issues buy a house; she renovated the ground floor of the house so that she and my grandfather could stay there as long as possible (he was there until two weeks before his death and she died at home in bed); and she was very generous with us grandchildren. My sister and I got $100 to $250 during Christmas and birthdays, and whenever we visited, she would sneak money into our coat pockets.

When my parents sat my sister and I down at the kitchen table and told us about the money they wanted to give us, they were very clear that the money should not be spent on trivial things. They told us both to start a Tax-Free Savings Account with the money and save it for something worthwhile. We both did, and happily.
 
It’s a large percentage of the savings I have, but I know it’s not a lot of money in the long-term. But it already feels like it has a purpose. Having that $10,000 has made me feel really secure. 

Last summer I was working really unstable part-time hours. It was really tempting to dip into that money, but I knew that I was eventually going to have a full-time job and that I would be mad if I had spent that money eating at restaurants or going out for drinks all the time.

My mom always refers to it as Gran’s money, as in: “If you don’t get a job for a while after your current contract, there’s always Gran’s money.” Having that safety net has made me feel really secure—but I want to put the money towards something Gran would appreciate. Being reminded of her makes me want to save for something real and long-lasting, like her kitchen; I want to put the money towards something Gran would appreciate. So I add to her $10,000 every month, and in the meantime, am generous with my own money as well. Small things like tea with my mother and sister, dinner for my boyfriend’s birthday, drinks for my unemployed friends. Gran would approve.

Anna Mason lives in Canada.

In this installment of “What Would You Do?,” a gift from a generous friend. Here’s Alissa:

For my birthday last year, a guy friend gave me a gift card for a spa. Reasons he gave me a gift may have included: My grandfather had just passed away. My boyfriend and I had just broken up. I host a lot of parties. It was my birthday. (Ulterior motives go here, I don’t know, he is still with the same girl he was dating at the time.)

I didn’t use it for a year because I am a procrastinator. When I finally called the place to use it, the lady gave me the balance: Four. Hundred. Dollars.

!!!???!!!???!!!???

I have never given or received a present that large in my life (and this dude was a student at the time so I’m really not sure how he could afford that). What the hell do you do with that?! I had already acknowledged the card, not knowing its total value, and got him a lavish (for me gifting my friends, i.e. $60) restaurant gift card.

I used some of it and used the rest to treat my mother and grandmother. Still shaking my head at that one. — Alissa

Holy cow, no friend of mine has ever given me that much amount of money as a gift, either! The easy answer to this is to simply ask the guy why in the world he’d give you such a generous amount on a gift card. I’d call him up and say, “Hey! Remember that gift card you gave me? Did you know that there was $400 on it?!”

He may have a good explanation for that: Perhaps some wealthy person he knows gave it to him and he doesn’t go to spas, so he decided to pass it on to a friend who would appreciate it. Perhaps he won the gift card at work. Or perhaps you just have a very generous friend. Hold on to him—he sounds like a good one.

Dear Mike,

I live with my boyfriend, C., and we’re very open about our finances, which are becoming more and more intertwined at this point in our relationship. We’re both big savers and are in good financial situations, except when it comes to his family. Although his mother makes plenty of money, she’s constantly asking C. for money. When C. lived at home after college, he helped her pay off significant credit card debt, but her spending habits are still problematic. She’s an emotional spender, and her house is cluttered with clothes, books, and other things she never uses. She recently did a kitchen renovation she hadn’t saved for, and ended up asking C. for thousands of dollars to cover the costs. He insists that she knows it’s a loan, and that she’ll pay him back, but he has no idea when that will happen.

His younger brother lives at home. He just finished grad school, and is not yet employed. When C. and I moved in together, we downsized to one car. He gave his brother his car, with the expectation that his brother would eventually pay him some small fraction of the car’s value, but that the car is mostly a gift. His brother never bothered to get summer jobs, or internships in college, and there seems to be no expectation that he contribute to the family monetarily, the way C. does. I admire C.’s generosity to his family, but he’s starting grad school now (while still working full-time) and I’m concerned that all this money he’s giving them is going to force him to take out more student loans, thus hurting his (our?) financial situation for years to come.

He knows that this is not sustainable for him or his family, but it’s understandably hard for him to tell his mom she needs to change her spending habits and learn to save money. I’m uncertain about my place in all this, because it impacts me, but I’m not really in a position to say anything to my boyfriend’s mom, and I’m not sure if she’s aware of how much I know. Is there a kind and gentle way for C. to say “Mom, I can’t give you any more money?” Are there resources we can suggest to help her develop better spending habits (if it matters, she’s in her mid-50′s and—thank goodness!—has a generous pension when she retires, so retirement saving isn’t a big issue)? — A.H.

Dear A.H.,

It’s been weeks—months—since I’ve received this letter from you. I’ve read and re-read your letter many times. I’d sit at my desk on a weekend morning, or I’d come home late at night after a long day, and I’d pull up your letter with the intention of answering it. But then I’d shut down my laptop and do something else, or I’d look through the questions in my inbox to see if there was something else I could answer more immediately. I’m sorry that I couldn’t answer your letter sooner.

The reason why answering this letter has been so difficult for me is very clear: I am a son who financially supports my parents. That won’t come as a surprise to you if you’ve read some of my previous pieces on this site. It’s a common thing for the child of immigrant parents to do. But here’s something less common, something I’ve never admitted to before: I’m also a sibling who has financially supported a brother. I cannot defend that decision with arguments about filial piety, or cultural obligations.

My decision to give my brother money to help him pay his bills while he struggled with unemployment was done completely of my own volition. I did it out of love. I did it to be kind. I did it, often when I could not afford to do it, which means I did it because I couldn’t bring myself to say no. I am no angel. There were times when I did it because I felt like I had no other choice, and I’d curse the stars, and stew in a mix of anger and sadness in my apartment, feeling a little sorry about the position I was in. And then I’d feel guilty about feeling angry about something where I had that one powerful word I could use if I wanted things to change: No.

To answer your letter, A.H., is to answer a question I have in my own life. How do you say no to your own flesh and blood? I can sympathize with C. for wanting to support his mother and brother, because I am a person who supports his mother and brother. But the answer for C. is the answer I have for me: Just say no.

Giving that answer is easy—the hard part is actually saying it. Saying no to someone you love is hard to do, and hearing no from someone you love can be hard to take. But there is no way around the truth. The truth is that C. cannot afford to give his mother money. The truth is that C. is not in the financial position to give his mother money. The truth is that C. is going into debt by giving his mother money—he’s paying thousands of dollars for her kitchen renovation, and then borrowing money to pay for grad school. C. knows why giving money to his mother is unsustainable. The only thing he needs to tell her is the truth: “I can’t afford to give you any more money.” That word, “afford,” is key because C.’s mom may not even be aware that he’s not in a financial position to give her money. Sometimes when someone asks for money, and you give it, they assume that you can afford to do it.

I suspect that saying no will be a liberating thing for both C. and his mother. C. will be able to save and spend money to build a life of his own and fund his own dreams instead of paying off other people’s credit card bills and kitchen renovations. C.’s mother, no matter how she reacts to what he has to say, will be forced to figure out how to live her own life with her own money. She will learn to believe that she has what it takes to make it on her own, that, if god forbid anything were to happen to her children, she would know that inside of her is this powerful, self-sufficient individual who can face anything that comes at her. Her generous pension plan will also probably help her with that.

As for resources—if C.’s mom doesn’t have a financial advisor, I’d suggest that she ask other family members or friends and colleagues for recommendations about who they use, and then meet with each of them to see who she clicks with the best. She should bring a list of things she’d like to improve on—whether that’s saving, creating a budget, or limiting her spending. If she really is an emotional spender, she should also consider seeing a therapist (which worked for one of our writers who was a compulsive shopper). If she’s having trouble with debt, she should get in touch with a credit counselor in her area, and should be able to find one through the National Foundation for Credit Counseling, a nonprofit credit counseling organization. And she’s welcome to email me too, even if it’s just to hang out and chat.

Not too long ago, I had a conversation with my brother about how difficult it is for me to help him pay his bills. “It’s hard for me,” I said. “Because I want to help you and mom, but I can only do so much for so long.” He understood. “What are you going to do?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out,” he said. He’s paid his bills this month—without any of my help.

— Mike

Previous advice

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Photo: weiswoman

Kids love presents. Kids love things. They cry when they don’t get what they want and they cry when they do. Let’s say Kevin is crying because Suzie got the new Super Soaker he’s been asking for—he won’t be comforted by the fact that he might have the toy eventually, even if his birthday is in a week because he wants it now! It’s hard for him to understand that he will eventually be as happy as Suzie.

This is why it’s not easy to explain homelessness to a child: why some people have homes and others don’t. It’s even harder to explain charity. Children generally learn plenty about spending money, but little about giving it away (UNICEF is a good start, but their box program focuses on giving away other people’s money).

The problem with teaching children to share with someone who is not in front of them is an issue of deferred gratification—the same reason a person donates to a beggar in lieu of a charity. There is a tangible interaction when handing a dollar to the person who will spend it, but for most charities you don’t know exactly where your money goes; you know the general area your money will go towards, but you can’t be 100 percent sure, and picture a real event in your head. Some money will run an office refrigerator, and people don’t want to think they’re keeping some potato salad cold, even if a fridge is necessary to run a charity and the potato salad happens to be delicious.

Deferred gratification is an important and difficult lesson for a child to learn—a lesson that shows that time invested in certain activities (studying, practice, etc.) will pay off in the end. Walter Mischel’s classic Stanford Marshmallow Experiment and all of the subsequent studies show that children who wait to receive two marshmallows instead of immediately eating one are far more likely to do better in school, go to a better college, and earn more money. The study aims to prove that teaching children the benefits of deferred gratification are incredibly important to their development.

Another problem you’ll face when explaining charity to a child is the same problem everyone faces when they decide to donate: Which charity deserves your money? People often donate to what has affected them (if a woman’s mother dies from breast cancer, she is more likely to donate to support breast cancer research). Perhaps consider the practicality of your donation (i.e. how many people you’ll be helping)—is it better to fund research for an extremely rare disease that has a small endowment or is it better to choose a disease that kills many people and has a large endowment? What about foreign causes? And the arts and education (including your alma mater)?

I’m only recently at the point in my life where I have a salary and so I often wonder how much I can afford to give away. In this economy, people are saving where they can—more so than usual—and the first thing that often gets cut is philanthropic giving. If you can’t donate as much as you’d like to, you should make sure you’re donating wisely.

Some economists measure happiness or satisfaction by estimating what they call utility, which quantifies the positive impact something has on everything else. Bhutan uses utilitarianism to measure what they call their Gross National Happiness (GNH) in an attempt to measure quality of life (as opposed to the GDP). Ideally, a donation—and your life—would maximize utility, but it’s reasonable to donate to something you care about. In fact, it could be as productive because you’re more likely to take on a role that is more than a money-giver, even if that role is simply telling your friends about something you support. The utilitarian method for choosing charities should be used when you can’t decide between several organizations or you don’t have any specific preference in the first place. What should be emphasized to children, or anyone, is that deferred gratification can yield better results for the individual and society as a whole.

E.A. Weiss is a writer in New York. Follow him around. Photo: Shutterstock/Gemenacom