Wealth and poverty.

Our priest told a wonderful story today, about a father who took his young son to stay for a week with some relatives who lived a meager existence in the countryside. His plan was to teach the boy to appreciate their relative wealth.

At the end of the week, while driving home, the father asked "son, how did you find the trip?"

"It was great, dad."

"Did you notice how they lived?" the father asked, probing a little further.

"Yes."

The father waited a few moments, hoping his son would elaborate, but after a minute's silence he continued. "Well, what lesson did you learn?"

"I learned that they have three dogs, and we only have one. We have a fountain in the yard with some goldfish. But they have a whole stream, with trout and turtles and stepping stones and a bridge made from a fallen tree. We have some fancy lights in our garden. Theirs is lit by a million stars. Our yard goes back pretty far, but it stops at the neighbors fence. Theirs is as big as the sky."

The father sat, speechless, pondering this unexpected turn. His son looked at him gratefully. "Thanks, dad, for showing me how poor we really are."

Sometimes people ask me for financial advice, knowing I have a master's in the field. But financial theory can't teach you how to appreciate the glory of creation. If I was to write a book on how to get rich, it would draw as much on my philosophy degree as on finance. Because if you can't see the world with the wonder and interest of this boy, you would live in poverty with all the money on earth.

Now pardon me as I sample with interest the wonder of hickory-smoked turkey, fresh from my grill.