The Quarter

It’s something as simple as a quarter. An object that we can see everyday in our lives. In our wallet, in the pocket of our jeans, in the bottom of our purse, stuck under the couch cushions, or even piled in the drink holder of our car. (C’mon, I’m not the only one that does that, right?)

A quarter. Simple, but to my foster kids– it can mean the world.

It means FAMILY.

Last Thursday, Batman and Cupcake went to have a visit with their Mom & Dad. At the end of the visit when we went to pick them up, their Dad handed each of them a quarter. Not sure why, because there was no bubble gum machine around to buy something. There wasn’t even one of those machines that sells the junk in the little plastic containers anywhere around.

He just handed them each a quarter.

Everywhere the kids go, the quarters go. When they are brushing their teeth, the quarter sits on the bathroom vanity. When we are eating dinner, sure enough there’s a quarter sitting on the kitchen counter. One quarter even traveled to school yesterday in Cupcake’s backpack.

Most of us would sit there and think “What the heck can you buy with a quarter?” It’s something simple to us, but to them it’s a tie to their family. Those quarters might as well have been worth a million dollars. (Or at least worth a large stack of Nintendo DS games.)

It’s the connection they can keep with their parents, even when they only get to see them once a week. Because every time they touch that quarter, feel the cool ridges of it against their fingertips, or rub their thumb over the smooth face of George Washington, they can think of their parents. They have hope they will get to go back home. The quarter triggers good memories they can think about, when family life was happy for them.

I’m thankful for those quarters, because they are therapeutic. They are tangible. Something they can hold onto while they embark on this incredible journey.