My dog Cash and I went on a Sunday morning stroll last week. I figured I’d get a little exercise and do a little “walking – talking” to myself. It was only ninety-seven degrees that morning, so I felt lucky we got out the door before it got hot.

Even at that time of the morning, the heat was brutal. I got a sense of what a bag of popcorn might feel like heating up in a microwave. I stopped by my nephew’s house midway through our walk and pirated his water hose to spray down my poor dog. Cash laid down on the grass and rolled over onto his back so I could run cool water across his belly. I considered doing the same.

As we continued our walk, I noticed a quarter on the road, so I picked it up. I hate to admit it, but any coin smaller than a quarter, I would not have taken the time to pick it up. I know, a bad example. But a quarter …. Well, that’s car wash money.

The quarter was shabby and brown in color. Placing the coin between my thumb and index finger, I gave Gorger Washington’s face a good rubbing. I was able to get enough of the grime off the coin to read the year, 1963.

Wow, that is the year I was born! All of a sudden, this quarter I found had significance. We were both minted the same year, and sixty years later, we met on a Sunday morning on a hot asphalt road.

I could not help but wonder where this quarter had been in its sixty years on earth. Did it help buy a gift for someone? Maybe it was invested in a great idea or maybe it traveled around the world in the pocket of somebody famous. Possibly it was traded for goods and services or given to a friend in need.

Then I thought, maybe it was used for evil and not good. Maybe it had been stolen from someone or was used to pay a bribe. I had so many questions I wanted to ask that quarter about where it had been, what it had seen, and what it had been invested in. That quarter had a story, and I wanted to hear it.

I said out loud, “Mr. Quarter, tell me, how did you end up here, at this spot, sixty years later.”

I chuckled and thought to myself that this quarter could ask me the same question. “Mr. Howey, tell me, how did you end up here, at this spot, sixty years later.”

Maybe it was the heat getting to me, but I began to search my life for things which I have invested my life in. In many ways, life mirrors that quarter I found on the street. The people, places and things that quarter was invested in lead to where it is today. People are no different, other than the quarter had no say in how it was invested. People will end up exactly where they are headed based on what they spend their time and money on. At least that is how it works for me.

When I got home, I got out the soap and water to shine my quarter up shiny. But on second thought, I decided to leave the quarter as I found it. It looks heavily invested in life, and I kind of like that. We all know people who look heavily invested in life. They understand life is short and they never take family or friends for granted and they have the scars to prove it.

I need to be more like that, living a life which is well spent.

I placed my newfound sixty-year-old quarter on the window sill above the kitchen sink. I plan to look at it on occasion to remind myself to always consider the people, places, and things in which I am investing my life.

At sixty years of age, my most precious currency is time. I can make more money, but I can’t make more time. I will always try to save money, but I intend to spend every bit of my life on meaning.

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Todd Howey is a columnist for BrownwoodNews.com whose articles appear on Fridays. Email comments to [email protected].