The life I’ve chosen to live

A faded smile on my face

The day is new, and so are you!

Where will you take me today?

I have no quarrels with wherever we go. I’d just like to go with you.

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How old am I?

The engraving on my side says I was made in 1929. Can you not tell by my faded copper and my lack of expression?

I’ve lived through the Great Depression, recessions, and 9/11.

I’ve seen great tragedy and great suffering. I’ve spent decades in complete darkness, but before you toss me into a pond or I slip out of your pocket, let me tell you what I know in my small piece of eternity.

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I’ve loved more than I have hated. I still love.

A silent observer to the land, a lesson in every palm I graze.

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A young girl, Rose, about 8 and a quarter, taught me what it meant to be a friend. Her father worked in the fields all day, and her mother spent her days flying in planes all across the globe.

A lonely girl she was. No other friend but her own. She found me stuck on a piece of gum.

“Oh, you poor little penny, have you not a home of your own? I think you will come home with me!”

She put the old hairy pink wad of bubble gum into her mouth and skipped back home with me, cozy and clean in her warm hand.

We spent many days and many nights home alone. She would read to me stories of fat pigs and friendly spiders. Unlikely friends. That’s how we saw each other.

Before Rose, I had not known such warmth since I was shoved inside a roll of others like me. It gets very cramped and nobody had a sense of humor quite like mine.

She took me to her family’s vacation home in the mountains and showed me how to skip rocks. We even went down to the beach, and unknowingly, that’s where she left me.

It was by mistake, of course. She had fallen asleep in the sand, clutching me in her palm. When her father picked her up to carry her into the car, she dropped me onto the sand, and I never saw her sweet face again.

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There were others like Rose. Sweet and kind, in need of company, in need of someone to make them feel not so alone.

I got comfortable spending decades buried in the sand. It wasn’t as bad as you think. It’s nice and cool, and I get to hear the ocean right outside my doorstep. The laughter and conversations of those around me never made me feel alone.

It was the 70s, and I was resting. Resting under pounds of sand. A middle-aged man found me with his metal detecting stick. He picked me up and looked at my date.

I gave Mona Lisa a run for her money.

The sun. Glorious sun. How potent and bright you shine down upon me. Basking in the rays like a cookie sheet on a hot summer’s day.

I then felt water, but not from the ocean, but the man’s tears.

“Mary, my love. You’re with me, even now.”

The man opened his wallet and stuck me in the plastic film that I shared with a picture of him and his wife.

Over time, I would learn more about the man whose name I learned was Frank Sheppard. An honest man. A God-fearing man who worked as a carpenter. We had a special relationship. He never said much when he looked at the picture and me laid proudly next to it.

I still didn’t quite understand why I was so special to Frank until June 31st. That was him and his wife’s wedding anniversary: June 31st, 1929.

I never asked questions. I just enjoyed being with Frank and understanding him, getting to travel wherever he went.

The beaches, the Piggly Wiggly, my favorite thing to do was go with him to the cemetery to visit his wife. There were others like me scattered about. It felt nice.

Frank taught me the joys of silence, and I think of and miss Frank often.

They say Frank went to be with Mildred, and I couldn’t be happier for them.

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As the years go by, I go to and from:

Land and sea.

City and country.

Darkness and light.

Rich and poor… mostly poor.

I would be lying if I said my long but short life hasn’t been difficult. That would be a lie. It’s been extremely difficult, but I won’t let that get me down!

My time may come at any point. I cannot live forever, and I know that. I accept that graciously. I made myself a vow the day I was created by my maker: I would take every day as a divine gift to learn, to love, to live.

Some may scoff at me and see me as less than them. Some see me as a divine blessing from above. A totem of good fortune, a totem of bad fortune.

My life’s joy has been the stories I have collected along the way.

The stories that are still untold, and I will continue to make. I look forward to those I’ll fall in love with, those I’ll suffer with, and those I’ll remember forever. I may be a passing glance in the grand scheme of their timeline, but to me, I get to be a small part of their destiny.

After all, i’m just a Penny, and that is what I was made for.