This morning as I was having breakfast with my mother, I caught sight of a ten-cent coin at the base of our mug holder. I chuckled because this coin used to be in the kitchen sink for ages. I moved it from there because I finally got tired of it being on the way every time I clean the kitchen sink. Poor coin! No one seems to have found any use for it.
As has been my custom, I usually take out all other coins except gold coins from my shoulder bag. All the five-cent coins I put in the blue dolly bank and all the ten- cent coins in the Mickey Mouse girlfriend's bank, the twenty coins and fifty coins altogether in a wide-mouthed wooden container so I could easily get them as needed.
As my piggy banks for the five and ten cents are full, I just put these wherever I happen to be when I take out coins from my bag. If these fall on the floor, I never really bother to pick them up. Needless to say, these coins would stay forever on those spots or wherever they end up after I sweep the floor.
I remember the time when I went to shop for souvenirs to send my relatives overseas. As the shop assistant was handing me the change from my purchase, I asked her to put these also in the bag. Her reaction was a thousand words to paint. Unsure whether she heard me right, she asked if I really meant that she put the money with the bagged items. I said yes.
I could laugh out loud. Was it really weird to have the loose change with the bagged souvenirs and not in my shoulder bag. Why, these were just coins... five, ten, twenty and fifty cents!
I asked my mother whether she remembered the comedy show where Dolphy, a poor unestablished man was always the subject of his mother-in-law’s ridicule and insult where the latter always put on airs by asking her maid to sweep the floor for money. I told my mother, we could also sweep our floor technically for money—not for notes though, but just for five or ten cents.
Do I really regard these coins valueless that I would not bother to even keep them in my coin purse?
As we oftentimes find five-cent coin on the path when Brett and I take a walk, I asked him why he thinks people don’t even bother to pick it up. Just right then, he told me the story of a five-cent coin.
I could re-tell the story, but I may not give justice to it. The moral of the story is—as little value has a five-cent coin, we can not underestimate what it can do to us in the long run.
True indeed! If my bus fare is short of five or ten cents, the bus driver would definitely not let me in the bus or give me a ticket. The consequence is disastrous--I would not be able to go to my destination or miss my pay as a contractor. As I know exactly where to find the five or ten- cent coins around my house, I just pick these coins to add up to my bus fare. That’s why as valueless as these seem to be, I don’t vacuum them.
I don’t know how long that ten cent coin would stay at the base of our mug holder because I don’t take the bus anymore—ie I could not leave house now as my mother needs a high level of care. I’m positive, though, it’s going to be of use to me one day. Ït just has to be patient--as I always tell myself.
