The Great Depression of 1929 defi ned a generation of Americans, some of whom became bitter about their losses, and in turn, became miserly and obsessed with money. Our current recession marks an abrupt course correction, an unfortunate opportunity, or maybe more fortunate than we know, to re-evaluate how we regard money and to examine our values.

So full of passion for their futures, the young don’t enjoy hearing cautionary stories from their elders. I didn’t like it either. My grandmother never stopped talking about the depression. She lost her beautiful home for lack of $250. My grandparents, my mother and my uncle were forced by circumstance to move into what was called a railroad fl at which was cramped and unpleasant and not in the best part of town. Eventually, my grandparents bought a modest home in a nice neighborhood and they maintained it meticulously. My grandmother, who worked in a cigar shop, took her paycheck each week to the savings and loan and paid off that house in nine years. That took sacrifi ce and determination.

The people of my parents’ generation grew up on a steady diet of thrift. By the time I came along, the song was the same in every home, ‘turn off the light’, ‘shut the door because the air-conditioner is on’. And of course, ‘eat everything on your plate because there are starving children who would love to have that.’ There were rules, lots of them, and they were enforced.

All the while, parents saved to give their children lives that were better than what they’d known, and there came a time when a larger middle class emerged than ever before and severe deprivation became a thing of the past except for the most poor. That was about the time that Americans deemed ‘sacrifi ce’ a dirty word.

The seismic shift that occurred in the sixties brought freedom from all the rules that had bound society together. The rules had become shackles. Crime became a signifi cant issue. Those of us who had endured all the stories of lack wanted nothing more than more, lots more, and we got it. And here we are.

One of the positive changes that came from the social revolution of the sixties was that we could look to possibilities and not be held back in our dreaming by class or any other limitation. Anyone could become anything.

It seems, however, that the race to have the most and be the best has left us exhausted and not necessarily happier. If money is the sole indicator of happiness and success, then what do we do for happiness now that the money is gone? There are signs that people are hungry for something better than cynicism and defeat. My grandmother always said, “It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there,” but that’s true only if you’re hungry for dog.

The good news is we’re all in this together. False pride can be thrown to the wind, and good riddance to it. The way I look at this is that my family is well. We are alive, and life must never be taken for granted because it can be so easily taken away in just a moment. We live in a beautiful place where most people genuinely care about each other. We will fi nd ways to ease each other’s burdens. We will pray for each other. We have time and things to give to those who need them. We are decent and kind and we love our God, our children and families, and herein lies our self-worth, our prestige, and our dignity. Being people of excellence requires the right attitude, and that’s not for sale. It’s free.

Most of us will now have to make do with less. So what.