When my daughters were little, each time one of them received a birthday or holiday card from their grandparents with a crisp $20 in it, I silently vowed that I would finally get around to opening a savings account for them at our local bank so they could start learning the virtues of saving and compounded interest. But routinely, months later, I’d stumble across the long-forgotten money, still in the card, that I’d stowed in a bag or a desk drawer. Opening an account for a child is a hassle. Minimum balances, virtually no interest accumulation.  I wasn’t sure it was actually worth it.