On Entrepreneurship
Or, how to encourage kids in this world
This past weekend brought one of those rare gifts to North Texas: snow.
Snow, in Texas, carries a bit of baggage.
The last significant storm left people without power for days. It was cold, difficult, and exhausting.
And yet, as always, neighbors showed up—delivering water, blankets, and firewood to those who needed it most.
There was also, predictably, a run on groceries.
Some things never change, it would
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A Different Kind of Snow Day
This time, though, the snow felt different.
After a modest start on Friday, Saturday delivered just enough sleet and snow to make sledding possible—for those brave enough to try.
And in weather like that, having a Jeep has its advantages.
As a friend recently put it to me, “You don’t have a Jeep for its miles—you have it for your smiles.”
Saturday afternoon, my partner, her kid, a friend (and Mollie, too) piled into the Jeep and headed for the highest point in town—which, admittedly, isn’t saying much. A few determined kids braved the hill while their parents wisely stayed warm in their vehicles.
After several good tumbles, we capped the day with a last-minute trip to the local dam, where the sledding was better and the crowd even thinner.
And that’s where words mattered.
Almost offhandedly, I said to my partner’s kid—who already carries an entrepreneurial spark—
“All this place is missing is someone selling hot chocolate. All the coffee shops are closed, and this would be an easy sell for the right person.”
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From Idea to Action
So, here’s the thing.
She took the idea and ran with it.
By the end of the day, she’d convinced a friend’s parents of the idea and together they set up a stand, printed a Venmo QR code, and bundled up against the cold for the next day’s sales.
Not only were they selling hot chocolate—but they baked brownies, packaged everything individually, and planned well enough to have inventory left for a second day, thanks to the added snow day of Monday this week.
Seneca once wrote, “Believe me, it is better to bring a thing to light than to let it lie hidden.”
That’s exactly what she did.
She brought the idea into the open—and learned something by doing so.
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What Kids Are Really Listening For
It was still cold Sunday afternoon.
Snow was falling, fingers were numb, and sledding would have been far easier.
Especially as all her school friends were doing the same.
But she stayed at it.
She talked with strangers.
She made change.
She smiled through the cold.
And more than once, she heard the same refrain: “I wish I had thought of this myself.”
All kids want to be seen.
All kids want to be heard.
The words we choose as adults—often casually, sometimes without thinking—matter more than we realize.
We can encourage kids to be curious, capable, and independent.
Or we can quietly teach them that ideas should stay tucked away.
We can fan the spark.
Or we can blow it out.
The choice, whether we notice it or not, is always ours
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