When $20 Used To Seem Like A Fortune

Every birthday and Christmas, without fail, an Aunt who lived in Australia would send me a birthday card. I’d see the card with it’s foreign postmark and rush to open it. Inside there would always be a crisp $20 note.

I can still remember now how happy that used to make me feel. The promise of this note, given to me by someone far away, who wouldn’t know what I spent it on. Whenever I got money from my parents as a gift, there was always a knowledge that they would know whatever I bought, and therefore it should be acceptable to them. But this faraway Aunt would never know; I had $20, and no one could tell me how to spend it.

Nowadays, I treat $20 bills almost with disdain. In the age of the credit card, I’ve almost stopped using cash all together, and even when I do have actual bills they never seem to amount to much. A grand purchase of something I really want is rarely going to be covered by cash; I now associate the feeling of infinite spending possibilities with an anonymous bit of plastic.

When I think what I spend $20 on now, it amazes and delights me that so much thought used to go into what I’d spend that gift from my Aunt on. There are days when I spend $50 without really noticing on things that life unfortunately deems essential, such as food or gas. A simple amount of $20 is now almost ruined, as my expectations and responsibilities have changed.
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