Life’s easy in the affluence of you: the lavish way you waste your words on praise beyond what’s earned; the million-dollar views your thoughts frame in the wild; the get-a-ways you stake, that swank Aruba in your smile. For now we rent three bedrooms and a bath. We share one car, one salary, some laughs, four children, and a bare-bones, homemade style. Most days you’re spent by lunch, and still invest. Not just for when we’re old or for our heirs, but for the stray eternity compressed inside time’s passing as God’s name is in a prayer. You tender what few manage to possess: the self’s small change, which almost no one spares.