Each day of our lives we make deposits in the memory banks of

Charles R. Swindoll, with the clarity of a teacher and the tenderness of a father, once said: “Each day of our lives we make deposits in the memory banks of our children.” These words, simple yet profound, unveil a truth that touches every parent, every guardian, every elder entrusted with the nurture of the young. He reminds us that nothing in daily life is trivial, for every word spoken, every gesture shown, every silence kept, is recorded in the unseen treasury of a child’s memory. Day by day, these small impressions accumulate, shaping the heart and the soul long after childhood has passed.

The origin of this wisdom lies in Swindoll’s lifelong devotion to family and faith. As a pastor and writer, he saw with piercing clarity that children do not only learn from sermons or lectures, but from the rhythms of daily life—the tone of a parent’s voice, the way conflicts are resolved, the tenderness or harshness with which they are treated. These small moments are the deposits placed into the vault of memory, unseen at the time, but drawn upon throughout a lifetime.

History itself bears witness to this truth. Abraham Lincoln, reflecting upon his own childhood, declared: “All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” She had little wealth, little power, yet the memories of her faith, her discipline, and her love became the foundation upon which Lincoln built his strength. Her daily “deposits” of character and devotion shaped a man who would lead a nation through its darkest hour.

This saying also carries a warning. Just as good deposits can enrich, careless or cruel ones can wound. A harsh word, a broken promise, or the absence of love are withdrawals from the child’s storehouse, leaving emptiness where trust should be. Many carry into adulthood the scars of neglectful deposits, their memory banks filled not with encouragement but with reproach. Swindoll’s words call us to awareness—to remember that every action is a seed planted in the soil of the future.

There is also a heroic dimension in this teaching. To live with the knowledge that we are shaping the memory banks of children is to live with both responsibility and purpose. It calls us to rise above selfishness, to live not only for ourselves but for those whose lives will echo ours. The parent who chooses patience over anger, kindness over cruelty, presence over distraction, is forging a legacy more enduring than wealth or fame. For long after possessions are gone, the memories of love will remain, guiding children in their own journeys.

The lesson for future generations is clear: live every day as a builder of memory. When you sit at the table, speak words of blessing. When you rise in the morning, greet your children with kindness. When discipline is needed, do it with love, not rage. In this way, you will fill their memory banks with treasures they can draw upon when life grows difficult. Encouragement, patience, laughter, and forgiveness—these are the eternal currencies of memory.

Practical wisdom flows from this truth. Slow down, be present, and take seriously the moments that seem small. Read to your children, walk with them, listen when they speak. Share stories of your own youth, for these too become deposits of heritage and identity. And above all, let them see in you the virtues you wish them to carry, for actions are remembered more deeply than words.

Thus, Charles R. Swindoll’s words ring with the power of ancient wisdom. Childhood is the vault where the future is stored, and each day we add to its treasure. Choose well what you deposit, for in the end, these memories will shape not only your children’s lives, but the lives of all they touch. And when your own days are done, the memory banks of your children will stand as a monument to the love, wisdom, and faithfulness you imparted.