b'A fter 21 months of remodeling and then moving into our new homeand realizing all my original budget estimates were wrongI was out of money. I recall a specific moment when we were shopping for a large bay window for the kitchen. When it came to the house\'s interiors, Nanci said I was spending like a drunken sailor on shore leave. She was right. There was no denying it. But back then, ever the hopeful optimist, I often reassured her by saying, "I will find the money!"Sensing our uncertainty about the price, the store salesperson proceeded to show us a much smaller window, which looked exactly like the one we wanted, but half the size. He then walked away to allow us the space to make our decision about what I really wanted. However, our reality was far worse than our desires would allowat least, that\'s what my bank account was showing. I only had credit cards with minimal amounts of credit available.I don\'t know if there are many men out there who fuss over a window like I was doing back thento me, it was an iconic moment in my life, a decision I believe set the course of my future. The miniature version of the window I needed to have just wouldn\'t do."We have a medallion in the grand bay window of the living room," I said to Nanci, who was looking at me, puzzled.Let me explain. The original builder of the house we were moving into built it in the late 1930s. It was obvious from the first moment we stepped inside that this man wanted to make a statement. It wasn\'t just that he chose to build it at the top of a hill, giving his young family a view that could only be described as magical. Seriouslyanyone stepping into its enchanting living room was treated to a panoramic scene of everything below and beyond. The living room\'s bay window with the big medallion in the center was his other statement. This medallion is beautiful, with its regal lion shield surrounded by something you might see in a Sicilian villa. I had to make Nanci understand; again, I said, "We have a medallion in our living room windowI am not putting this tiny bay window in the kitchen. I am choosing the big one and we are paying for it today!"I know for a fact that I was smiling confidently, but on the inside I was terrified. Nanci was not pleased; she was just as terrified. Buying that bay window for our kitchen wiped out what little credit I had left on my card. "In for a penny, in for a pound," I sang to Nanci. My logic was wobbly at best. In my mind\'s eye, I could see my back garden flourishing through this panoramic kitchen window, emphasizing my lifelong mantra that life is beautiful. At the time, I asserted that if I was going all in with this house, I wasn\'t about to compromise our dream over a smaller bay window.Why? After all, it was just a window, right? No.I knew that if I could get myself out of this financial predicament, that the smaller window would be a constant reminder of the cost of feeding into my fears; it would amplify the effect my lack of courage had on my real dreams. I couldn\'t help but think of the man who built my house and what went through his mind when it came to making the choice to install the huge living room bay window with the undeniably noticeable stained-glass medallion right in its center. Did this man have the same fears I was experiencing with my choice of kitchen windows? Did he ever regret choosing a big bay window framing a medallion and providing a scene worthy of an oil painting?***Later on, with our new kitchen window installed, I stood in our living room, pouring myself a glass of rye, staring at the ornate medallion in the middle of my bay window. It was magnificently glowing with the day\'s last light, creating a marvelous kaleidoscope of red hues. It was at this momentI came to understand the fortunate series of events that shaped my choices.8'