For months, I watched my neighbor’s two teenage kids diligently sweeping and picking up trash every Sunday morning, convinced they were doing a wonderful job caring for our street. As a woman in my 60s who’s lived here for decades, it was heartwarming to see such responsibility and dedication from the younger generation. I even complimented their mother, Grace, assuming she was proud of their community spirit.

One Sunday, I noticed something strange one of the kids, Sam, was hiding coins under a bush instead of trash. Curious and a bit suspicious, I searched nearby bushes and sidewalks and found several coins scattered around, nearly five dollars in total. Confused by this odd behavior, I confronted Grace later that day to understand what was really going on.

To my surprise, Grace burst out laughing and explained that the kids weren’t cleaning at all—they were on a weekly treasure hunt started by their grandfather. He hid coins around the neighborhood for Becky and Sam to find, turning their Sunday mornings into a playful game rather than a chore. What I thought was community service was actually a fun family tradition.

I couldn’t help but laugh at my own misunderstanding. The kids were getting fresh air and exercise, just not in the way I imagined. Grace joked that maybe, in a way, they were still learning responsibility—just with a bit of treasure-hunting adventure thrown in. Next Sunday, I decided, I’d simply enjoy watching the game unfold rather than trying to figure it out.