Let us speak in praise of the lowly penny.
THE FIRST wallet I owned was a Confirmation gift. It was stamped “Genuine Leather” but I cannot vouch for the genuineness of the creature that provided the hide. The wallet had a small change purse that contained a shiny new penny, signifying I would never be broke. As a kid, I remember finding a penny on the ground. I didn’t get an allowance, so it was like striking it rich. Two more pennies and I could buy a postage stamp, or enough candy to hasten the advent of tooth decay.
We don’t give pennies a second thought. Many shops have a small dish of them on the counter so customers can take one or two if they need them for a purchase, or add to the supply if they receive them in change.
There is no question that the ubiquitous penny is entrenched in our lexicography. You’re so quiet, a penny for your thoughts; I bet that new Tesla cost a pretty penny; in for penny, in for a pound; he’s penny wise and pound foolish; when the will was read, I was cut off without a penny from that penny pinching uncle of mine; and “every time it rains, it rains …”
Pennies pop up when I’m not looking for them. They turn up in the forgotten folds of a winter coat, under car seats, or tucked into the cushions of a sofa. For something so small, they carry surprising weight, not in their metal, but in their meaning. To some, a penny is just small change, easily dismissed or left behind. But to others it’s a quiet reminder that life is built on small, seemingly insignificant moments. Maybe a penny in your path is a nudge from the universe, a gentle sign that you’re on the right track and your luck is changing.
I think pennies have a distinct charm that makes them stand out. The coppery sheen of a new penny is warm and eye-catching and distinct from the silver sheen of other coins. Over time, pennies develop a natural patina, aging into deep browns and greens that evoke a sense of history and nostalgia. Older pennies, dulled and worn, carry the years more gracefully than we do. Their faces fade, but the histories of where they’ve been deepen — jangling in a pocket while waiting for a street car, contributing to the cost of an ice cream cone on a first date, in a child’s piggy bank hoping to multiply into a new bike, or in the register of a corner store long since closed.
There is a humility to pennies. They are often overlooked and undervalued. Pennies remind me of the meaning in the ordinary. Value isn’t always about worth, but about presence. That is so true with people. Think about your closest friends. You judge them, not for any material worth but for the value their presence brings to your life. Even a casual relationship can develop into something meaningful. Sometimes the folks we see everyday – our neighbors, co-workers, even strangers – can add up to having a bigger impact on our lives than we expect. And just as a rare penny is worth more to collectors, people with whom we can share our thoughts and feelings become extra special, even if they don’t realize it. Their good vibrations make a difference, and that has real value.
We turn pennies into tokens of our rituals. A penny in a wallet or purse means wealth. A penny tossed into a fountain on a day when hope feels fragile can lift our spirit. We’ve all tossed a penny into the water of a wishing well and watched it disappear, believing, if only for a moment, in the power of wishes.
We use “a bad penny” to describe the persistent reappearance of something or someone unwanted. In literature the concept of the persistent, undesirable character is a recurring theme. Shakespeare’s Iago is one. His continual presence and negative influence make him a classic example of a recurring problem. And I still get shivers when I see Jack Nicholson popping up in “The Shining,” malevolently smiling “Here’s Johnny.”
A penny is never flashy or demanding. It waits quietly for its time to be needed. Maybe that’s the real lesson: we, too, can be like pennies, small, unnoticed at times, but always capable of making a difference. In a world that often measures value in grand gestures and large sums, pennies teach us to be attentive to the little things. Because when we look back, it’s the smallest details, the pennies of our lives, that hold the deepest meaning.
Perhaps that’s why we keep them, even when they seem obsolete. Holding a penny is like holding a tiny, tangible piece of the past. A whisper from a time when life was slower, simpler, and even a single cent could feel like a fortune.
Contact Jerry at jerrygervase@yahoo.com
