Anne Scheiber. I stared cluelessly at the name on the slip of paper just drawn from the box being passed around the classroom. “Who drew Anne’s name?” the professor asked as the emptied box was returned to his desk. I raised my hand. “Do her justice. Periodicals will be the best place to start. The book hasn’t been written yet, but it should be. The world needs more Annes.” I headed for the library as class was dismissed. Periodicals—Time magazine and The New York Times—were indeed where I found Anne.
Anne Scheiber was born in Brooklyn, New York, in 1893. Her father passed when Anne was quite young, leaving his widow to raise ten children. Anne went to work in her early teens to help earn money for the family, eventually becoming an Internal Revenue Service auditor. Her annual salary never exceeded $4,000 (est. $70,000 today). When she retired in 1944, her pension was $3,100 (est. $54,000 today) and her savings account balance was a mere $5,000 (est. $87,500 today). But when Anne passed away at the age of 101 in 1995, she left behind a $22 million estate. Yes, $22 million. Anne’s lifetime of modest living and long-term investment strategies produced a host of legacy scholarships for young women at Yeshiva University’s Stern College for Women and the Albert Einstein College of Medicine.
I cringed recently while reading the following on Facebook: “Between the age of 55 and the time of death, use and enjoy the money you have saved. Don’t save it for those who have no clue the sacrifices made to obtain it.” Really? I thought of Anne Scheiber. Anne never married nor had children, so why would she save and strategize to ensure future generations of young women would receive funding for education? Because she saw the bigger picture—a picture beyond her four walls, beyond her earthly existence the Bible describes as a mere vapor.
I found nothing in my research to suggest Anne professed to be a Christian. But we who identify as Christ followers find clear instruction in the Word of God for how to manage God’s money. Notice I didn’t say “our” money. Psalm 24:1 (NLT) instructs, “The earth is the LORD’s, and everything in it. The world and all its people belong to him.” There’s no me or you in that; it’s all His. The Parable of the Talents in Matthew 25 reminds us of this as well. The master gave each servant various talents, but there was an expectation of return.
When was the last time you assessed your management of what God has entrusted into your care? Perhaps the latest job promotion or financial windfall was intended for you to bless the Kingdom instead of collecting more earthly treasures where moth and rust disintegrate or thieves steal. (See Matthew 6:19–21). Is it an adrenaline-induced, social post-worthy moment when you establish a scholarship, endowment, or gift annuity? Honestly, not really. A few documents are completed, the money is transferred, and the investment slowly grows over time. The same could be said for the moment decades ago when Anne Scheiber chose to invest her modest income to benefit future generations of young women seeking an education. Yet decades after her death, her legacy still speaks loudly as endowment funds distribute millions of dollars annually because of Anne’s quiet generosity. How much more should we be aware of the need of sowing into future generations when it pertains to the things of God!
Last October, Mom and I strolled leisurely under towering oak trees strategically planted along the garden walkways on the Middleton Place near Charleston, South Carolina. But it wasn’t seeds planted the previous year that provided the refreshing shade. Instead, it was the vision and action of Henry Middleton in the 1740s that started the process. Though he knew time would not allow him to see the trees grow to their highest heights, he was motivated to start the plan in motion so those coming behind him could benefit.
Take a moment and consider your management of what God has entrusted to your care. Long after my vehicle is rusting in a salvage yard or my outdated wardrobe is riddled with moth holes, I pray an Apostolic professor, church planter, or missionary can look across their classroom or congregation and say, “The world needs more Kellys.”
Our vapor moment is here. What will the future say about us? May we wisely manage what has been placed in our care.