On the church square, a parishioner asks about my summer: “Have you been able to take a vacation? Go a little with the family? » « Yes, this summer I was with my family… in a house that our parents had bought on the Royan coast. » With that, since I don’t want them to imagine me lying on a beach towel, covered in tanning oil, leafing through a women’s magazine, I hasten to specify what my main activity was: active participation to the collective work of the siblings to maintain this family heritage. I will detail: first of all the famous hunt for woodworms, these little insects that feast on old furniture, then the anti-rust treatment for the entrance gate to which a chain with a good padlock had to be added to deter attempts to intrusion. I don’t forget the hunt for moths in the food cupboard either. Also, whether at my fingertips in these summer works, or at the end of my lips when recounting these episodes, Jesus’ instruction comes to mind: “Do not treasure yourselves on the earth, where moths and worms devour them, where thieves break through the walls to steal” (Mt 6, 9). However, I did not have the feeling of trying to preserve a heritage in vain, but of participating in the transmission of another asset, which was so precious to our parents: the sense of family for generations to come. It was to bring together children and grandchildren that they had bought this villa. There was their treasure, there also was their heart (Mt 6, 21), and this treasure has the taste of the imperishable (Mt 6, 20) because it has its source in God like all love that gives itself without interest. I concluded that if we don’t choose what we receive, we choose what we do with it.