When I was a kid one of my greatest joys was to find a penny on the street. Now that I am social security age, a penny doesn't buy what it used to, but finding one on the street still makes me happy.
I wonder why people don’t pick pennies up these days. Has the value of a penny become so deflated that it is more trouble to bend down to retrieve them than they are worth?
Maybe the pleasure that I get from what others ignore stems from my father telling me that found money was lucky when saved, unlucky when spent. My father would stash away every bit of currency he found in a small antique clock. The money was frequently counted but never spent because it was good luck.
Indeed, the pennies I find on the street are good luck. For they not only remind me of the joyful memories from days past, when a penny bought a handful of sunflower seeds from the machine outside the candy store, but perhaps more importantly, they are little lessons which teach me to be thankful for the abundance in my life, no matter how small.
A couple of years ago, someone e-mailed me a story about found pennies. I wish I knew who wrote it because it expresses what I feel. It read:
I found a penny today. Just lying on the ground.
But it's not just a penny, this little coin I've found.
Found pennies come from heaven, that's what my Grandpa told me.
He said that when an Angel misses you, they toss a penny down.
Sometimes just to cheer you up, to make a smile out of your frown.
So, don't pass by that penny, when you're feeling blue.
It may be a penny from heaven, that an Angel tossed to you.