The magic of wheat pennies

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Do you remember these?

I found one of these gems when I was scraping up change for my coffee from my car’s coin catch-all.

It reminded me of when I was a kid and how much fun it was to search for wheat pennies. They weren’t much treasure, though I learn now as an adult that some are worth some serious cash. If you find a 1909 VNB, for instance, call me.

Anyway, the question I want to ask is this: When do we lose the magic in wheat pennies? The magic in the little things?

Do you know how many hours I spent as a kid trying to build a 7-story card pyramid? It’s almost embarrassing.

My kids have some of that. Gabe collects dum-dum wrappers. He’s got a couple of hundred. Liv writes scraps of poetry and song lyrics on damn near everything.

They gaze at clouds, they look under rocks for bugs, and they have to inspect every butterfly that flutters by.

It’s the little passions. The ones that have nothing to do with spending money or technology.

Where does that go?

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