Families are full of stories. 

My Mum has a hundred of them, one which has always stuck with me. She told me once about an aunt of hers, Aunt Lillian, who married Oz, I think in about 1920. 

Oz was from a wealthy farming family, the Lammonds, and was set up to inherit very well. 

Oz, however, had itchy feet. He didn't want to start working on the family farm straight away. He wanted to go do stuff. 

When he told his father this plan, the old grumpy patriarch said he'd cut him out of the will if he didn't buckle down and get to work.  

Oz went anyway. And was cut out of the will. 

He eventually went south to Currarong and somewhere out the back of beyond he found a farm for rent. He eked out a living with Lillian and four bright young children. And pretty much had nothing. No money, no transport, no shoes on the kids' feet. 

Lillian homeschooled. She taught the kids elocution, music and literature. And she made do with a dirt floor. 

One day she walked into town, an hour away. And she bought a teacup.

She took it home, and made a cup of tea in it.

Her relatives were utterly horrified. The children have no shoes and you bought a TEACUP? How COULD you, Lillian? 

And Lillian said: 'Because I just wanted something beautiful.'

I remember Mum had tears in her eyes when she told this story, filled with empathy for this very intelligent and cultured woman with her precious teacup and dirt floor and judgmental in-laws. It's so different for so many of us now. We're very lucky. 

Some of us choose to spend our beans on overseas adventures. Some choose to buy incredibly beautiful clothes. Some love cars. Some spend it all on someone else. 

Me? I have a beautiful teacup which makes me think of Aunt Lillian.

What about you? Is there anything material that matters to you?