value of money

I have a coin holder in my pocket that is worth more to me than the coins it holds. It's one of those molded plastic football-shaped cases that was a real hit way-back-when (in a way, it was the iPod of the 1950s). I've been using it for a long time and it has developed some war wounds (or, depending on how you see the glass, laugh lines), but it's also received plenty of comments and compliments. In Japan, a country that uses six different coins, a coin case is a must.

Countless convenience store clerks have asked, "Ooh, that's handy. Where did you get that?"
"This? Yes, it's very... convenient."
Dozens of grocery store check-out lane workers have checked it out, "Oh, can I see that case?"
"Well, I suppose that's what the check out lane is for," and I let them have a look.

In fact, it's so popular I've even thought I should import the things and sell them to everyone who comments on it. So, you might ask, how much is it worth?

Well, at the moment, mine has 34 yen in it (which is worth 29 cents), so maybe wash the coin grit out a bit, it's market value might rise to around 50 cents, give or take. Okay, maybe new it might be worth over a $1 even. But to tell you the truth, I'm not really interested in selling them. The one I have is worth a lot more to me.

My dear friend, Francis, gave it to me when she was about 88 years old. She had received it at a social gathering of Friends of the Elderly (which it has printed on it in black lettering), but gave it to me since she didn't go out shopping by herself anymore. To me, this is a perfect gift; I've had something to remind me of her daily for nearly 10 years because of it. Every time someone comments on it, I imagine Francis smiling over my shoulder.

I remember sitting together at the dining room table, where she'd often ask me if I wanted to eat the vegetables she didn't like from her Meals on Wheels home delivery lunches. Strangely, most kids don't like brassica oleracea a.k.a. the brussels sprout, and apparently neither did Francis - lucky for her my taste buds had developed a liking for them, especially when covered in butter. But I would sit with her, not for the free lunch handouts, but for the stories she would tell. Often times her audience was just me and the cat (although I'm pretty sure the cat was there for the free food). When she recounted some part of her life, her eyes would light up, and her smile would let you know when she was taking a few liberties with the facts, but she always made sure her audience heard a good story.

Every time I use that coin case - which is practically daily - I get a little more for my money. The people at the check-out counter don't know it, and the guy at the vegetable stand doesn't realize it, but for the cost of a few coins, I gain the extra value of memories. And as a result, the person at the register usually gets a customer who is now smiling rather warmly while he takes a few coins out of a small, orange, football-shaped rubber molded coin case.

"Ooh, that's a neat case. Where did you get it?"

"Oh this old thing? Yes, I quite like it. I got it from a very dear friend a long time ago."