Once there were moments in a man’s life that he only values huge paper bills in different shades of green, yellow, violet and those that stand in between save for the coin. He has been fulfilled counting the wads and wads of the smell of newfound wealth brought about by the money he earned in each day. He took fancy of the money he earned, not bragging it though but showing it too much too often, in ostentatious manner and gall.
The coin, however small its value remains left out in the wads and wads of cash in his wallet and pocket. He never accepts coins as it destroys his image and worse, worry that the pocket of his Armani jeans be torn because of the heaviness of the coin. Singling out coins in 25 cents, he easily throws them away, in sheer display of power, greed and influence because coins are seen as of lesser value and stature in this society. Seldom missing the ironic accounting principle that a whole can never be without its part hence a 100% wad can never be without the contributions of the 25 cents. So the coin was left out, spurn and detested because of its sheer appearance and ugly contributions, perhaps because it is a coin.
One day, the man in ostentatious flare and fashion, losses all the wads, in green, yellow, violet and those that stand in between save for the coin in 25 cents. He losses all the wads and wads of freshly printed money and is left with an oddly minted 25 cents. Holding it on his palm, the sad man, sullen because of his diminishing stature and standing in the community, starts looking at the beauty of the cent. He now starts to look at how beautifully the coin is minted to perfection, the figure, the year it was minted, the name emblazoned on it, the design of the central bank minting it and starts to appreciate the gold color that never fades. With only 25 cents on his pocket, he started to squeeze his pocket for other coins perhaps he can find any to look on but there was none, save for the 25 cents left at the bottom lid of his pocket. Inconsolably distraught because he found nothing but 25 cents, he starts to walk through the alleyways head bow down, hoping not for anyone to stare at him walking but hoping he finds loose coins thrown out by others like him in his journey, but he never chanced at any idle coin. He went from every nook and cranny to look for other coins but unsuccessful and pained. He resigned to his only 25 cents in his pocket and starts a new journey, one that appreciates the smallness of all things and the ugliness of the world that comes in between his towering power, influence and affluence.
The coin may be diminutive in its size, lesser in value than the wads and wads of money we keep each day but every bit of money one get to spend is made up of several of these 25 cents, one thing accountants value in between in the search for a balanced sheet. Everyone should be more reserved in their keen judgment of power and the promise it behold and bestow. One’s riches last no longer than one can outlive the graces of God because for sure, the money one earns, in faithfulness and in full truth or illegally and usuriously will vanish and what remains is the very value we keep in our lives and that is our humanity. Our humanity spells what no wads of green, yellow, violet and those that stand in between save for the coin, in fact, our humanity is represented by the coin. We never grow in value and importance when we are alone but when we are banded together, summed up into wads and wads of money, then we are the symbol of power, stature and opulence.