Penny, Penny… Who’s Got the Penny?
I started my morning with an agenda.
I ended it with a story.
As someone who uses Google, I have over 25 million views on my photographs. Yet I still don’t understand why that number matters so much to people. I’m not trying to win a popularity contest. I’m not chasing views.
I just want to help.
Recently, I discovered Google’s option to turn photographs into postcards. I thought it was beautiful. Memories made tangible. A digital image transformed into something a person could hold in their hands.
Before sending them to family and friends, I decided to test the process.
I mailed postcards to myself.
When they didn’t arrive, I found myself having conversations at the Cave Creek Post Office and later at the Rose Garden Post Office. Together, we learned that postcards still involve a surprising amount of human handling. The machines don’t necessarily do all the work.
So today, we tried again.
The postcards now have return addresses and additional markings to help them find their way home.
But the real lesson of the morning came when I learned that mailing a postcard costs 61 cents.
Not counting the cost of the postcard itself.
The Google postcards had already cost over a dollar each to create.
Then came the postage.
I started doing the math.
What if these had been wedding invitations?
What if I had been sending them to 150 people?
Every postcard would carry not only the cost of creating it but also the 61 cents needed to move it from one pair of hands to another.
Connection has a cost.
I smiled when I realized I had exactly 61 cents.
I had already used my card to pay for the transaction, but I wanted the postal worker at Rose Garden to have the exact change.
Sixty-one cents.
Not even a dollar.
And I found myself unexpectedly grateful that there wasn’t a transaction fee attached to such a small amount.
That’s when it hit me.
Every penny counts.
Not because pennies are rare.
Not because they are valuable on their own.
But because they add up.
And as I stood there at the Rose Garden Post Office, another lesson found me.
A couple was walking away from the Service Counter carrying a tattered American flag.
They looked uncertain about what to do next. The post office wasn’t able to help them with where it should go.
I asked, “Are you looking for where to take that?”
They said yes.
I told them that the Cave Creek American Legion would know how to honor it properly. I believe it is Post 34, though I wasn’t entirely certain of the number. What I did know was that there were Veterans there who understood the dignity and respect due to the American Flag.
They were going the other way, I told them I would help.
After leaving Rose Garden, I took that flag to the Legion because that’s what I had said I would do for the Veteran and his wife I met today.
I hugged him and then her. Then we hugged each other.
I thanked him for his service.
His wife stood beside him, grateful that someone had noticed their need and was willing to help them navigate something that mattered deeply to them too.
I have a lot of honor and pride in every star on that flag.
Every stripe.
Every color.
And when you blend all colors together, you get purple—my favorite color.
Every star counts.
Every stripe counts.
Every penny counts.
Every individual counts.
We all matter.
Maybe that’s why the words, “The Lord is my shepherd,” mean so much to me.
A shepherd doesn’t count only the strongest sheep.
He counts every one.
The one who wandered.
The one who struggles.
The one who serves.
The one who needs help.
The one who offers it.
Today wasn’t about 25 million views on Google.
It wasn’t about postcards.
It wasn’t even about 61 cents.
It was about paying attention.
It was about recognizing that we are all part of something bigger than ourselves.
A postcard finding its way home.
A Veteran being thanked.
A tattered flag being treated with RESPECT.
A penny counted exactly when it was needed.
And perhaps the greatest lesson of all:
that every person matters enough to be counted.
Today, I had an agenda.
Instead, I found purpose.
And for that, I am grateful.