I went to the credit union today to deposit my Christmas bonus. I waited my turn behind a boy who was about four years old. In one hand he held a wad of cash, and in the other he held his account information. His parents watched from the side of the lobby.

“Why, hello,” said the teller when she saw the boy. He walked purposely to the counter. She leaned over and looked down at him. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

“I need to make a deposit,” he said. He stood on tip-toes, reaching up with the money and the account information.

“You need a stool,” the teller said, laughing. The boy looked around. He set his money and his account information on the ground, walked to a nearby desk, and began tugging on a chair. We laughed — his parents, the teller, and I. His father helped him move the chair, and then went to stand by his wife again. The boy climbed onto the chair. “Now I can see you better,” said the teller.

“I need to make a deposit,” the boy said. He handed his money and account information to her.

“Let’s see what you have here,” she said. “That’s a lot of money,” she announced after counting it.

“Yeah,” said the boy. “I’m saving it. I’m gonna be rich!” The teller laughed.

The boy’s parents came to stand by his side. His father tousled his hair, obviously proud. His mother whispered, “Can you give him five one-dollar bills? We want him to have a little spending money.”

The teller finished processing the transaction and asked, “Would you like a receipt, sir?”

“Yes,” said the boy. He took his money and his receipt, and then climbed down. “Thank you,” he said, looking back at the teller. He helped his father push the chair back to the proper desk, and then the family went on their way.

“He’s off to a good start in life,” I told the teller as she took my money.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, he is.”