I love when traditions are passed down from one generation to the next. When my father was a boy, he had a wonderful grandmother who was always making life a little more exciting. She kept a money jar at her home, and when the grandkids would come over, they each got to reach one hand in and grab all the money they could. Whatever you could pull out of the jar in one handful, you got to keep.
My dad remembers how exciting it was to see all that money in your fist, and my mom remembers my oldest brother getting to put his little hand in the money jar when he was a boy. (Great Grandma Hellewell passed away before I got the chance.)
My parents are now carrying on the tradition with a money jar of their own. My mom says it's easy to keep the jar filled, she and my dad just dump their spare change in (and grandchildren have little hands). It sits on the window sill, and my kids like to stare at all that money that might soon be theirs. On the last day of our trip, I let them reach their hand in and they each take a big handful. We dump their haul into plastic bags which they carry around as if it was pure gold.
Until next time, money jar!