Once， when I was a teenager， my father and I were standing in line to buy tickets for the circus. Finally， there was only one family between us and the ticket counter.This family made a big impression on me. There were eight children， all probably under the age of 12. You could tell they didnt have a lot of money.
Their clothes were not expensive， but they were clean. The children were well-behaved， all of them standing in line， two-by-two behind their parents， holding hands. They were excitedly jabbering about the clowns， elephants， and other acts they would see that night.
One could sense they had never been to the circus before. It promised to be a highlight of their young lives. The father and mother were at the head of the pack， standing proud as could be.
The mother was holding her husbands hand， looking up at him as if to say， Youre my knight in shining armor.
He was smiling and basking in pride， looking back at her as if to reply， You got that right.
The ticket lady asked the father how many tickets he wanted. He proudly responded， Please let me buy eight childrens tickets and two adult tickets so I can take my family to the circus.
The ticket lady quoted the price. The mans wife let go of his hand， her head dropped， and his lip began to quiver. The father leaned a little closer and asked， How much did you say?
The ticket lady again quoted the price. The man didnt have enough money.
How was he supposed to turn and tell his eight kids that he didnt have enough money to take them to the circus? Seeing what was going on， my dad put his hand in his pocket， pulled out a $20 bill and dropped it on the ground. (We were not wealthy in any sense of the word!)