I’M CONSERVATIVE, but sometimes even I see the need to change. For instance, I belonged to a high-profile service organization for many years. They’re very proud of their tradition of raising money to give a Webster’s dictionary to each fifth grader in our city. Let’s face it: These days, no self-respecting fifth grader is going to be caught dead with a hardcopy dictionary. Doesn’t everyone know that kids look up everything online? Traditions die hard—even when they no longer make sense. Which brings me to saving for college. Should we continue to automatically fund 529 college savings accounts? I’m trying to decide whether to put money in 529 plans for my three grandchildren. Some parents sacrifice their own retirement savings to make sure their kids’ college education is funded. Others might fail to pay off debt because they feel a duty to stash dollars in a 529. But those good intentions could backfire—in part because money in 529 plans can hurt a family’s financial aid eligibility. If anyone should know the value of a college degree, it’s me. My degree opened the door to a successful banking career. So why am I having doubts about funding 529 accounts for my three grandchildren? It isn’t that we can’t afford it. Unless financial catastrophe strikes, we should be able to help with college costs. Still, I’m wondering whether saving for college should remain a priority—for five reasons. First, I recently had a heart-to-heart with one of my sons. He said that, if I hadn’t helped pay for college, he doesn’t think he would have gone. He’s ended up with a good job in the technology sector, but his conversations with friends have convinced him that a college education wouldn’t have been good value if he’d had to borrow to pay for it. Here’s a stunning statistic that backs up this anecdotal evidence: Nearly half of indebted millennials don't think college was worth it. Why not? The resulting student debt takes years to pay off and hampers their ability to build wealth. Second, there are fantastic job opportunities available from exceptional companies—with no college degree required. For example, Google wants to disrupt higher education with its Google Career Certificates. Imagine spending six months in Google’s program at a total tuition cost of around $300. If successful, you have everything you need to be hired by Google for a good job. Google has convinced 50 other large companies to join the program. I’m sure there will be more to come. [xyz-ihs snippet="Mobile-Subscribe"] Third, instead of college, young adults can take advantage of the growth in real-time learning. Studies indicate we forget some 80% of what we learn over the course of the next 30 days. Meanwhile, many of us have experienced the joy of going to YouTube and learning just what we need to solve a problem. I have a good friend who runs a successful online business. He has a master’s degree in business, but he’s told me that whatever he learned in college is too old to be of any use. He learns what he needs each day in real time. The world changes way too fast for universities to offer anything relevant to him. Fourth, COVID-era learning has revealed the stodginess and inflexibility of the current education system. One blogger, Mr. Money Mustache, shared his decision to allow his son to drop out of high school and instead learn at home. Others have also discovered that bland, repetitive teacher-led instruction can be replaced by extremely high-quality instruction using videos and other online resources. It’s hard to imagine a self-educated student, like Mr. Money Mustache’s son, being satisfied with the traditional four-year curriculum that universities currently offer. Finally, there’s a shortage of workers for high-paying blue-collar jobs. Not everyone is cut out for the corporate world. We still need plumbers and electricians. The popularity of Mike Rowe, host of TV’s Dirty Jobs, is a sign that the old “you’ve got to get a college degree” mantra is starting to erode. I want to be clear: I’m not suggesting everyone quit funding 529 plans. If your children are going to be doctors, a Google certificate won’t cut it and having dollars in a 529 plan is probably an excellent idea. Still, the world of education is changing fast—and perhaps a well-funded college account isn’t the key to getting ahead. Joe Kesler is the author of Smart Money with Purpose and the founder of a website with the same name, which is where a version of this article first appeared. He spent 40 years in community banking, assisting small businesses and consumers. Joe served as chief executive of banks in Illinois and Montana. He currently lives with his wife in Missoula, Montana, spending his time writing on personal finance, serving on two bank boards and hiking in the Rocky Mountains. Check out Joe's previous articles. [xyz-ihs snippet="Donate"]

IF I'M HONEST WITH myself, I’ve been financially comfortable for so long that I’ve lost the ability to truly relate to those living paycheck to paycheck. But over a lifetime of working with people and their money, I’ve learned to be aware of signs that someone may be on the brink of breakdown—and could use some help. I was only 22 years old when I had my first shocking experience with the power of money to cause a life to self-destruct. I was working as one of the federal government’s national bank examiners. A teller’s cash drawer was missing money and she was sent home. Around lunchtime, the bank president realized his truck was also missing. The teller had stolen his truck, and then driven for several hours before stopping and attempting to end her life. Fortunately, she wasn’t successful. But the experience made a big impression on me. Money is a double-edged sword with the power both to help fulfill our aspirations and to destroy. How can we help those who are struggling? Try these three steps. 1. Strive to be a “financial first responder.” That’s the label I give to those willing to help others in financial difficulty. We know that depression can occur in those suffering from too much consumer debt. If not addressed, serious consequences often result. In such situations, there are time-tested methods to give people hope. It doesn’t take an MBA to help those who have too much credit card debt. Just like we learn first aid to assist with a medical need when a doctor isn’t around, anyone can learn some basics to help financially stressed people who can’t afford professional help. I’ve trained others with materials from organizations like Crown Financial Ministries. The goal is to lay out a series of small, manageable steps that can be used to gain financial peace of mind. The first step might be to find a way to save $500. It’s something almost everybody can accomplish, and it gives them the confidence to move on to the next step of reducing debt. Crown’s money map is a brilliant formulation of baby steps to give those in deep debt hope that there’s a way out. 2. Redefine failure as a virtue. One of the reasons our economy has been a success is our acceptance of failure. For much of human history, debtors who couldn’t pay their loans went to prison. But in America, we made bankruptcy relatively easy so folks could discharge their debts and start over. You might think, as a banker, I’d prefer the harsh debtors’ prison method. But there’s real value to society, as well as to the individual, in making bankruptcy less severe. If bankrupt entrepreneurs are excessively punished for failure, they may give up on high-risk but potentially high-return opportunities. Think Henry Ford, who had two companies go bankrupt before he succeeded. Or Walt Disney, who was fired by an editor because he had no imagination. Or Mark Cuban, who failed as a waiter, carpenter and cook before finding success. [xyz-ihs snippet="Mobile-Subscribe"] High-tech firms like Amazon believe if they aren’t trying and failing with new ideas, they aren’t maximizing long-term value for shareholders. The list of failed Amazon ventures is remarkable. Amazon Fire smartphone lost $170 million before being shuttered. Kozmo.com was a $60 million dollar write-off. There are many more. Amazon founder Jeff Bezos has a high view of failure’s value: “I believe we are the best place in the world to fail (we have plenty of practice!), and failure and invention are inseparable twins." We need to remind ourselves and others that there shouldn’t be shame in failure, but there might be regret in being too fearful to try new initiatives. 3. Remember the limits of money and the value of life. I became a bank chief executive in my mid-30s. I was driven to achieve great numbers. When something or someone got in the way of that objective, I could lose perspective. Fortunately, I worked with a bank attorney named George who had flown multiple missions over Germany during the Second World War. He had the perspective to distinguish between what was really important and what was a temporary problem. One day, my bank discovered a customer had sold “encumbered” assets without first paying off the bank loan that was secured by those assets. Even worse, he lied to the bank, saying he still had the collateral. George and I met with the customer and his lawyer. As the start of the meeting, the customer began talking. He was completely broken. In tears, he shamefully admitted his deception. He was looking at financial ruin and possible criminal charges. But I was mad and less than sympathetic. Fortunately, George took over the meeting. Rather than beat the guy up, George sensed the man was suicidal. George comforted him with assurances that he could get through this situation. I remember George telling him, “You know, in a few years, no one will even remember this happened. We have to get through this, but you will have a life once it’s over.” I’ve heard a lot of sermons where a preacher taught the Christian virtue of loving those who have wronged us. But that day, George taught me that lesson more effectively than any preacher could. With George’s encouragement, the customer got through his problems and went on to lead a productive life. In the years that followed, I had to deal with many problems created by bad money decisions by my employees and customers. But I never forgot that lesson I learned from George. Thanks to him, I found I was able to show a little more humanity in dealing with financial problems. Joe Kesler is the author of Smart Money with Purpose and the founder of a website with the same name, which is where a version of this article first appeared. He spent 40 years in community banking, assisting small businesses and consumers. Joe served as chief executive of banks in Illinois and Montana. He currently lives with his wife in Missoula, Montana, spending his time writing on personal finance, serving on two bank boards and hiking in the Rocky Mountains. Check out Joe's previous articles. [xyz-ihs snippet="Donate"]

YOU NO DOUBT remember Peter Lynch, the celebrated manager of Fidelity Magellan Fund. He quit Magellan’s helm when he was just 46 years old. His comment at the time: “You remind yourself that nobody on his deathbed ever said, ‘I wish I'd spent more time at the office’.” Nothing brings more clarity to money’s limitations than consideration of our mortality. A few weeks ago, I thought about this truth as I lay awake all night, waiting to hear from my son. He and his wife had checked into a hospital to give birth to their first child. The plan was that we would receive regular text updates, regardless of the time. But the hours passed and no updates arrived. My wife and I had an ominous feeling that something was wrong. As we agonized and prayed, we struggled to contain our fears, imagining all the things that could be going wrong. Why hadn’t our son kept us updated? Were mother and baby okay? Finally, a call came at 3:30 a.m. Our fears were not unfounded. It was a traumatic birth—the baby initially had trouble breathing. But I’m happy to report that, thanks to incredibly talented medical personnel, our new grandson and daughter-in-law are doing fine. For me, the difficult birth has triggered a time of introspection. Has my life been too focused on the accumulation of things that won’t last—or have I have been building true wealth? The word “wealth” comes from an old English word. Its meaning is closely related to happiness and to the wholeness that comes from a well-balanced life. As we each examine our life, what traits should we look for if our goal is true wealth, rather than just lots of money in the bank? Here are eight things I view as valid metrics for measuring true wealth: Family and friends. According to research, a robust support network is almost always a leading indicator of happiness. That network is even more important amid today’s COVID-19 isolation. Community. The richness that comes from connecting with others through churches, civic groups and other forms of community engagement are at the core of civility. It’s what made my years as a community banker so rewarding. Education and experience. If we suddenly took all the money in the world and gave everyone an equal share, there would be inequality again by the next day—because of our differing abilities to adapt and respond to the situations we find ourselves in. That, in turn, partly reflects the wealth we’ve accumulated in the form of education and experience. Contentment. Growing up, I was surrounded by many lower middle-class families—and yet I rarely saw the envy and angst that destroy happiness. Instead, I saw that in the workplace, with its constant jousting over salaries and bonuses. Health. If we lose our health, we can’t work, play or travel as much as we might desire. To compound that aggravation, we must budget more for medical expenses. Good health is a key part of true wealth, and it’s worth investing in through a healthy diet and regular exercise. Spiritual peace. My daughter taught me a little about this when I visited her in South Africa. She was spending a gap year helping at an orphanage. Coming from an affluent American family, she assumed the people she’d be working with would be poor and unhappy. But as she explained to me, they were poor but happy. She saw the connection between their deep spiritual faith and their joy in life. A generous spirit. It’s a wonderful feeling to give generously to others. Studies show that many people derive great happiness from giving to those less fortunate. As a banker, I met many wealthy people who couldn’t enjoy this sign of true wealth—because they had for too long failed to give. Virtue. When we acquire our wealth by stepping on others or cheating, there’s ultimately a loss of joy in our riches. The Book of Proverbs says it well: “Ill-gotten treasures have no lasting value.” I looked at a lot of tax returns as a banker, trying to qualify customers for loans. When they didn’t qualify, many would admit that they didn’t report all their income and instead were often paid under the table. John Wooden, the great basketball coach for the University of California at Los Angeles, said it well: “The true test of a man’s character is what he does when no one is watching.” I’m not against success and riches. But we should all ask ourselves, “How am I using my riches to bring true wealth into my life and the lives of others?” It is, I believe, a crucial question—and it took a family crisis to jolt me into giving it the serious thought it deserves. Joe Kesler is the author of Smart Money with Purpose and the founder of a website with the same name, which is where a version of this article first appeared. He spent 40 years in community banking, assisting small businesses and consumers. Joe served as chief executive of banks in Illinois and Montana. He currently lives with his wife in Missoula, Montana, spending his time writing on personal finance, serving on two bank boards and hiking in the Rocky Mountains. Joe's previous article was Life as a Loan Shark. [xyz-ihs snippet="Donate"]

I RECENTLY HIT THE “pay now” button on what I believe will be the last of 20 years of college tuition bills. That’s right, we have five kids. All went to college. None took out student loans. Was it worth it—not just paying the tuition bills, but the decision to have children in the first place? It’s a pressing question. A birth dearth is hitting the U.S. and other countries around the world, as many adults opt to go childless. Today, roughly half of all countries have fertility rates that are so low that the population is either stagnant or shrinking. That brings me to today’s topic: the case for children. It’s a complex subject. I don’t want to suggest I know how others ought to decide. Everybody’s situation is unique and shouldn’t be judged by anyone else—and certainly not by me. Still, I think those of us with good stories about raising kids should share our experiences. We can balance out today’s narrative that children are more trouble than they’re worth. I remember the subtle pressure in the 1980s and ‘90s from others, as our family kept growing. Folks expressed concerns about having so many children. I suppose that, if you treasure a quiet and peaceful life above all else, having kids may not be a good idea. Children are messy and bring chaos. I remember answering the door, only to come face to face with our upset neighbor. He was a prominent doctor in the community and complained about my kids shooting at the deer in the backyard from our second story bedroom windows. “Thank you, Dr. Smith, for letting me know. I’ll take care of it.”  Ugh. But probably the greatest reason the U.S. no longer has a fertility rate necessary to maintain a stable population is related to financial concerns. The U.S. Department of Agriculture estimates the cost of raising a child through age 17 is more than $230,000. That number sounds ridiculously high to me. Still, whatever the right number is, the cost is daunting when you’re just getting started. [xyz-ihs snippet="Mobile-Subscribe"] I went back and looked at our financial records and found that, when our first child was born, we had a paltry net worth of $12,000. On top of that, my salary was modest. Why did my wife and I believe we could support a family? I’m a conservative banker and my tribe doesn’t believe “faith” is a business plan. So why did we do it? There were five reasons—some of which were clear to us at the time and some of which only became clear later. First, rather than just complain about our culture, we thought our best opportunity to change the world was by having children. Today, by God’s grace, we have two entrepreneurs, one banker, one IT guy and a social worker. In addition, thanks to marriage, we now have two health care workers and an oil man in the family. The world is better as a result of their service to others. We now know we changed the world for the better. I’m a finance guy, so I can’t help but estimate the financial return on investment. All five kids have good jobs. What if I assume they average $100,000 a year in earnings over a 40-year career? What kind of impact could that have? Assuming they give away 10% of their income, as we taught them, they’ll have contributed $2 million to charities over their careers. Social Security and Medicare contributions at current rates would be $3 million. State, local and federal taxes come in at an estimated $4 million. I’d call that a decent return on investment. Second, having children matures us. If I’d never advanced in my career, we would have struggled to raise five children. But the financial challenge of having kids meant I approached my career with a new fervor. As we awaited the birth of our first son, I studied hard for the CPA exam. Next was an MBA program, which I completed while working. That led to some nice raises and promotions. Third, by necessity, having children squeezed a lot of ugly selfishness out of me. I’m a selfish person by nature. But selfless service to family prepared me for selfless service at work and to charitable organizations. Fourth, researchers say children don’t necessarily make people happier at first. But ultimately, the satisfaction of a purposeful life devoted to family trumps any temporary happiness we give up. Finally, as we age, it can become harder to find true purpose, joy and passion. But having three grandchildren sure helps. Joe Kesler is the author of Smart Money with Purpose and the founder of a website with the same name, which is where a version of this article first appeared. He spent 40 years in community banking, assisting small businesses and consumers. Joe served as chief executive of banks in Illinois and Montana. He currently lives with his wife in Missoula, Montana, spending his time writing on personal finance, serving on two bank boards and hiking in the Rocky Mountains. Check out Joe's previous articles. [xyz-ihs snippet="Donate"]

ONCE IT LOOKED SAFE to travel again, I didn’t waste any time. I jumped on a plane and spent three weeks in the Carolinas. It was a great vacation. Staying in an Airbnb on Hilton Head Island gave me a much-needed chance to recharge while enjoying the beach. Renting a place on Lake Norman, the largest man-made lake in North Carolina, gave me quality time with two of my grandchildren. It was like breathing freedom again after the long COVID-19 lockdown. That said, the trip wasn’t cheap. Is it wise to spend so much on travel? Imagine 70-year-old twins, Samuel and Joseph, sharing a cup of coffee and talking about their different life journeys. Samuel traveled the world. When he wasn’t working for the Peace Corps, he was vacationing in a new country. Meanwhile, Joseph rarely left the county where he was born, instead focusing on building his business. Samuel doesn’t have much of a net worth, but he believes he’s lived a rich life. He can entertain others for hours with his travel stories, although he isn’t sure if his money will last into old age. Finances aside, he pities his twin for leading a sheltered life. What about Joseph? He’s a prominent member of his community and is worth several million dollars. He is proud of the mark he’s made locally and enjoys his financial security. He wouldn’t change a thing about his life because of the legacy he’s built. He can’t understand how Samuel could end up at 70 years old without financial security. Who lived “the good life?” I’ve known a lot of Josephs, who are rich financially but impoverished by their narrow understanding of the world. And I’ve known some Samuels, who have great stories to tell but worry about their lack of financial preparation for old age. The middle road is the path many of us take. We budget as generously as possible for travel but also insist on saving 10% to 15% of our income for retirement. That seems like a good compromise. But what happens in years when money is tight? I was always wired to save, so travel was an easy budget item to cut. I was more of a Joseph than a Samuel. But that changed after reading Mark Twain. Here’s one of his insights: “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.” A trip I took to South Africa opened my eyes to what Twain meant. I saw firsthand what life was like in an orphanage full of kids whose parents had died of AIDS. It gave me new compassion. Similarly, moving to Montana at age 50 opened me up to a whole new way of thinking about conservation of our resources. You just won’t get that perspective in the cornfields of Illinois. Even spending six months in an active retirement community in Tucson, Arizona, provided keen insight into the needs of older folks. Twain was right. Travel changes us. [xyz-ihs snippet="Mobile-Subscribe"] Travel can also create gratitude. How many times have you heard others say they enjoyed their international travels, but it made them appreciate living in America, with our freedom and prosperity? If I want to be thankful for my life in Montana, all I need to do is leave for several weeks. While I loved my recent East Coast experience, I hated driving down I-95, navigating the crazy traffic and road rage drivers. Give me Montana—where we have more cows than people. But while I have come to appreciate the benefits of travel, I also know failing to plan for retirement can end in misery. How do we balance those goals? Here are three suggestions for travel in different seasons of life. First, remember that the young are different from you and me: They can travel on a shoestring. My daughter educated me on "couch surfing." Basically, you download an app and have access to free housing. The father in me says, “That’s dangerous.” But so was hitchhiking when I was her age. A safer alternative: Help our kids travel for a gap year before or after college. I didn’t figure this one out until my last child was that age. But it was probably the best year of her life, in part because she got to experience the developing world. I’ve come to believe it’s a great idea to travel before we get tied down by work and family responsibilities. Second, if our career is in full swing, we shouldn’t just use our paid time-off for travel. Also consider getting a job that’ll take you to different parts of the country or the world. Military service has provided this alternative for years. Some civilian jobs also offer this perk. If a job with travel isn’t available and you’re budget constrained, look into going abroad with a religious or nonprofit mission. These trips are often considered charitable work and folks pay for them by raising money. The trips can be short term and fit in with paid time-off. In many cases, they’re more rewarding than staying at a five-star resort. Third, as we enter the golden age of retirement, take advantage of the opportunity to travel before health issues prevent it. As we age, there’s a risk we’ll get set in our ways. Travel can be a great antidote—helping us to keep an open mind to new ideas and the way that others live. Joe Kesler is the author of Smart Money with Purpose and the founder of a website with the same name, which is where a version of this article first appeared. He spent 40 years in community banking, assisting small businesses and consumers. Joe served as chief executive of banks in Illinois and Montana. He currently lives with his wife in Missoula, Montana, spending his time writing on personal finance, serving on two bank boards and hiking in the Rocky Mountains. Check out Joe's previous articles. [xyz-ihs snippet="Donate"]

I GOT STUCK IN a conversation at a dinner party recently with a name dropper. It was painful. Wanting to impress me, I suppose, I learned that, “Yes, Janet Yellen and I are good friends. I’ll be traveling to D.C. soon and I’m looking forward to connecting.” But it didn’t end there. I also heard about this person’s exotic travels and homes around the world. And the fabulous career that supported this lavish lifestyle. And the incredibly insightful views this person had on politics and other issues. If I’d had the chance, I could have offered that I once met Janet Yellen at the buffet table during a lunch break at a Federal Reserve conference. I said “hello” to her and she said “hello” back. Janet and I are close, too. I recount this experience not because I think narcissists can’t grow wealthy. They can and do. Still, I think we should look to the old-fashioned virtues of humility and stewardship to guide our thinking about money. King Solomon’s Proverbs tells us, “The outcome of humility and of the fear of the Lord is wealth, honor, and life.” How does this ancient wisdom speak to us in the 21st century? Consider four ways. First, humility in investing leads us to avoid big investment bets. If the market professionals can’t beat the averages, humble investors will lean toward spreading their money broadly, owning a globally diversified mix of stocks and bonds. Second, humble investors won’t assume high future investment returns, instead compensating by saving as much as they reasonably can. [xyz-ihs snippet="Mobile-Subscribe"] Third, humble investors won’t assume that a long life is guaranteed. To protect those who depend on us, we make sure they’ll be okay if something happens to us. This includes not only life and disability insurance, but also a well-designed estate plan. A fourth lesson comes from the book The Millionaire Next Door: We can’t necessarily spot those around us who have grown wealthy. Why not? Unlike my dinner party friend, the humble wealthy don’t need to impress anyone with a show of wealth. They typically don’t want recognition for donations. That same humility may lead them to drive older cars and wear less expensive clothes, which leads to increased savings. A virtuous cycle exists in the lifestyle of the humble. But, in my opinion, humility alone isn’t enough to have a successful relationship with money. After writing a book on money a few years ago, I did a number of radio interviews. In one interview on a Christian radio station, I was asked how I could encourage Christians to save money when Jesus taught that we shouldn’t lay up treasures on earth but instead store them in heaven. It’s a great question—and I think there’s only one answer for those of us in the Christian tradition. We don’t actually own anything in this life. Rather, we are stewards of what we’ve been given and must manage our wealth accordingly. That has three implications for how we handle our money—implications that I think are useful to everybody, no matter what their religious beliefs. First, as a steward, we need to consider the most effective way we can use our wealth to help others. The radio interviewer may have thought the best way to do that is to give all but essential money to churches and nonprofits. The evidence, however, suggests otherwise. The World Bank estimates that more than a billion people have been lifted out of extreme poverty in the last 25 years. A realistic goal set by some: Erase almost all abject poverty in the world by 2030. This incredible progress in eliminating poverty is partly the result of charitable efforts, but it’s also because more people have access to capital, thanks to free markets. To be clear, it’s good to give money to charitable ventures. But in the stewardship model of managing wealth, investing in businesses that employ people—and which provide life-enhancing goods and services—is also a virtuous choice. Since businesses are lifting more people out of poverty that any other efforts, it makes sense to have our money invested there. Second, a humble person may not be inclined to negotiate a hard bargain for goods and services for him or herself. A good steward, however, will negotiate furiously to get the best deal. Sometimes, I talk to Christians who think it’s virtuous to avoid aggressively pursuing their career. I advise them to change their thinking. Diligent stewards will see maximizing their salary for their God-given abilities as a part of good stewardship, and then they’ll use the resulting wealth to improve the world around them. Third, the good steward sees all of life as an opportunity to be wise with the resources he or she has been given. Children are to be educated for future productivity. Money is to be grown in investments that serve others. Time is to be used productively, balancing opportunities to work with the need for rest. Supporting the nonprofit sector—both financially and by volunteering—remains an important part of good stewardship. What happens when humility and stewardship are not central to managing our wealth? Instead of seeing money as a tool to support a purposeful life, it becomes the thing that we imagine gives our life meaning. But that likely won’t satisfy us for long. Joe Kesler is the author of Smart Money with Purpose and the founder of a website with the same name, which is where a version of this article first appeared. He spent 40 years in community banking, assisting small businesses and consumers. Joe served as chief executive of banks in Illinois and Montana. He currently lives with his wife in Missoula, Montana, spending his time writing on personal finance, serving on two bank boards and hiking in the Rocky Mountains. Check out Joe's previous articles. [xyz-ihs snippet="Donate"]