I went to Catholic schools as a kid. In 4th grade, I had a nun as a teacher. For Lent, she gave us these photocopied (err, probably mimeographed), crosses that had little sections in them, sort of like a mosaic. Instead of focusing on giving up something for Lent, we were supposed to do good things for other people. For each good thing we did, we were supposed to take a colored pencil and fill in one of the little bits of the cross. They key thing here was that these were hung up on the wall at school, and we would fill them in at school. I don't know why, but I didn't do any good things, or hardly any. It just wasn't something that stuck, and, really, even if I did do good things, I probably wouldn't have remembered them. But I didn't want my cross not to have any of the bits filled in. So I just filled in bits. I think I tried to figure out a good number so it didn't seem like too much or too little. I probably wanted to make it as small as I could while still having it look like I did some, because I felt really guilty about doing it.
It's like when I was taking music lessons at school (French horn) in the 6th and 7th grades. We had these little practice cards that we were supposed to fill out every week with how much time we'd practiced each day. I almost never practiced, so I made up times. Again, not too much. I felt really guilty about that.
And so I learned the true meaning of Lent: guilt.