Value Lost
The first time that Kenny had been traded in was when he was ten. His mother had been a homemaker who had poured everything she was into her home and family. He had a younger sister Mary, and a father who was stern and worked far too hard. Kenny did well in school, tried out for sports, and did everything to impress his father. Still, all the effort of one little boy couldn't keep his father from moving on to a new woman and starting a new and better family somewhere else.
"It wasn't your fault," his mother would try to convince him. "Your father was a pig who didn't know the value of what he already had."
The second time was after he had met Laura. She was beautiful, smart, kind, and brought Kenny to levels of happiness he hadn't known before. They got married and Kenny did everything he could to give her the world. He worked untold hours to provide her a house, to give her food, clothes, jewelry, but there was one thing he couldn't give her: a child. Still, all the effort of one man couldn't keep his wife from moving on to a new man with whom she started a new and better family somewhere else.
"It wasn't your fault," he'd tell himself alone at night. "She was a fool who didn't know the value of what she already had."
Kenny lived alone after that, throwing himself into his job at the cardboard factory. He worked twelve to fourteen hour days creating beautiful packages for a variety of products. His coworkers became his family and together they worked for years, faithfully giving everything they had to the company. Still, all the effort of thousands of employees couldn't keep the company from moving overseas and starting a new factory with better, cheaper labor somewhere else.
"It wasn't your fault," he told himself as he looked over his past due bills. "They were a greedy company who didn't know the value of what they already had."
It was cold at the mouth of the alley between the Starbucks and clothing store. Kenny sat wrapped in ragged blankets and guarded his cup, waiting for anything at all to fall in. Two women stopped and one began to dig into her purse.
"Sharron, we're going to be late. Just come on."
"No, wait. I've got a ton of change in here, hold on." She pulled out a coin purse and dumped a handful of coins into Kenny's cup, most of them pennies. She smiled and he thanked her, and she rushed to catch up with her friend.
His bones ached as Kenny stood, change cup in hand. Desperate for anything warm, he wandered into the coffee shop and ignored the looks others gave him. Once at the till, he dumped the cup over and began to count the coins out.
"Ugh. Are you seriously trying to give me this many pennies?" the cashier asked. Kenny ignored him and finished counting out enough for some hot tea. While preparing it, the cashier nudged his coworker.
"I can't wait for them to get rid of pennies for good. I hate when bums come in here with a shit ton of them. I mean, get a clue. There's a reason no one wants to hold onto them. They're worthless."
The young man came back with the tea and once again Kenny was outside and settled into the only home he had. As he watched the people pass, he couldn't help but to think about the young man's words. Another person dropped a handful of change into his cup and Kenny fished out one of the many pennies and held it up.
"It's not your fault," Kenny told it, his dirty and wrinkled fingers touching the grime the coin had collected over the years. "The world is a cold place, unable to see the value in us."
"It wasn't your fault," his mother would try to convince him. "Your father was a pig who didn't know the value of what he already had."
The second time was after he had met Laura. She was beautiful, smart, kind, and brought Kenny to levels of happiness he hadn't known before. They got married and Kenny did everything he could to give her the world. He worked untold hours to provide her a house, to give her food, clothes, jewelry, but there was one thing he couldn't give her: a child. Still, all the effort of one man couldn't keep his wife from moving on to a new man with whom she started a new and better family somewhere else.
"It wasn't your fault," he'd tell himself alone at night. "She was a fool who didn't know the value of what she already had."
Kenny lived alone after that, throwing himself into his job at the cardboard factory. He worked twelve to fourteen hour days creating beautiful packages for a variety of products. His coworkers became his family and together they worked for years, faithfully giving everything they had to the company. Still, all the effort of thousands of employees couldn't keep the company from moving overseas and starting a new factory with better, cheaper labor somewhere else.
"It wasn't your fault," he told himself as he looked over his past due bills. "They were a greedy company who didn't know the value of what they already had."
It was cold at the mouth of the alley between the Starbucks and clothing store. Kenny sat wrapped in ragged blankets and guarded his cup, waiting for anything at all to fall in. Two women stopped and one began to dig into her purse.
"Sharron, we're going to be late. Just come on."
"No, wait. I've got a ton of change in here, hold on." She pulled out a coin purse and dumped a handful of coins into Kenny's cup, most of them pennies. She smiled and he thanked her, and she rushed to catch up with her friend.
His bones ached as Kenny stood, change cup in hand. Desperate for anything warm, he wandered into the coffee shop and ignored the looks others gave him. Once at the till, he dumped the cup over and began to count the coins out.
"Ugh. Are you seriously trying to give me this many pennies?" the cashier asked. Kenny ignored him and finished counting out enough for some hot tea. While preparing it, the cashier nudged his coworker.
"I can't wait for them to get rid of pennies for good. I hate when bums come in here with a shit ton of them. I mean, get a clue. There's a reason no one wants to hold onto them. They're worthless."
The young man came back with the tea and once again Kenny was outside and settled into the only home he had. As he watched the people pass, he couldn't help but to think about the young man's words. Another person dropped a handful of change into his cup and Kenny fished out one of the many pennies and held it up.
"It's not your fault," Kenny told it, his dirty and wrinkled fingers touching the grime the coin had collected over the years. "The world is a cold place, unable to see the value in us."