Since I was a little kid, I always liked going to the pool, the beach– anywhere near the water. Also I liked banks. Why banks? Because my grandmother lived near the beach and she had her favorite bank or two and she would take me there before we went to the pool or the beach. The bank was an interesting building where people put money in and took money out– and it was dark and cool. (Nice during the summer.) The bank seemed formidable because it was large and dark and had long lines of people, but also was a friendly place where the managers always made time to speak to my grandmother or my parents about their accounts and seemed to be willing to give me a dip into their candy jar. My grandmother always gave me about 50 cents so I then would have enough money to buy a popsicle or maybe a small soda at the beach snack bar. The clink of the money in my hand made such a happy sound that I always liked counting coins.

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