Pastoesvaldivia

“The thought of having a joint checking account with my wife—I just can’t do it” was Mark’s problem. “It’s as if I just don’t trust anyone when it comes to my money.” I asked Mark if he loved and felt safe with his wife. “Yes, of course.” Had she ever given him a reason not to trust her? “No. Never.”
The big joke in my family was that I saved everything, just hoarded it all away. I had all these different banks and would move money—we’re talking pennies and dimes here_from one to another, counting it and playing with it. I guess I was about nine, and I had twenty-seven dollars in my room saved up in my banks, and I felt so rich. I was thinking I Wanted to buy something, and what I wanted to buy was a trampoline. It cost forty dollars, so I kept saving. I added more and more money to the banks, then went to count it up again, to see how much closer I was. And there was only twenty-four dollars! I couldn’t believe it. I knew my sister had stolen the money, i just knew it. She denied it. And when I told my parents, they said I had probably counted wrong, how could I accuse my sister of stealing? And she was standing there in the room, smiling I knew she stole it, and she knew I knew.
Having a joint checking account? When a sister you love steals your money, isn’t it possible, too, that she also stole your trust in those you love? I could see Mark’s face drop at the possibility.