The Dish by Deni

Are you there God? It’s me, Deni.

In the hustle of our daily lives, we often overlook the subtle messages that the universe sends our way. For me, those messages often come in the form of small, everyday encounters—particularly with the coins that find their way into my hands.

“In God We Trust” is emblazoned on most, if not all, American coins. But it’s the pennies and dimes that capture my attention the most. Call it superstition or divine intervention, but to me, they signify something greater, something beyond mere chance.

Let me take you back to yesterday, a day etched vividly in my memory. It was a Monday like any other, packed with patients and punctuated by the celestial drama of a lunar eclipse. As I braced myself for the peculiarities that often accompany such cosmic events, I encountered a series of seemingly unrelated occurrences that left me pondering the intricacies of fate.

Amidst the chaos of my day, I stumbled upon two pennies—those precious tokens from above that never fail to bring a smile to my face. Little did I know, these seemingly insignificant coins were harbingers of a much deeper revelation.

But then, the day took an unexpected turn. Venturing down a narrow dirt road to visit a new patient, I found myself immersed in a world far removed from the familiar confines of my daily routine. Surrounded by debris and dilapidated structures, I was confronted with the stark reality of someone else’s existence—a reality defined by struggle and resilience in equal measure.

Arriving at the makeshift “home” of my patient—a humble camper nestled amidst the wilderness—I was greeted by a scene that defied my preconceived notions of comfort and stability. A woman, sickly yet defiant, sat outside amidst a motley crew of animals, her oxygen tank juxtaposed incongruously with a cigarette dangling from her lips.

As I cautiously navigated this unfamiliar terrain, my attention was drawn to an unexpected sight: a scatter of pennies strewn haphazardly across the ground. Initially dismissed as mere detritus, these coins soon revealed themselves to be something more—a chorus of guardians, perhaps, whispering secrets of providence and protection.

But then, in a moment of startling clarity, the woman uttered words that struck me to the core. “Nothing good about having pennies,” she remarked dismissively, as if casting aside a trivial inconvenience.

In that instant, my worldview was upended. How could something so seemingly insignificant hold such vastly different meanings for two individuals? For me, those pennies represented faith, hope, and the unwavering belief in a higher power—a divine symphony guiding me through the trials of life. Yet for her, they were nothing more than a burden to be discarded without a second thought.

In that moment of discordant revelation, I felt the weight of a decision pressing down upon me—a choice between complacency and conviction, between resignation and resolve.

With a silent prayer on my lips and a heart heavy with uncertainty, I bid the woman farewell and retreated to the safety of my car. As I drove away, the echo of those discarded pennies reverberated in my mind, a poignant reminder of the fragile balance between belief and disbelief, between trust and doubt.

For in the end, it’s not the coins themselves that hold significance, but rather the meanings we ascribe to them—the stories we tell ourselves, the truths we hold dear, and the faith that guides us through even the darkest of days.

“In God We Trust”—a simple motto etched into the fabric of our nation, yet imbued with a profound resonance that transcends time and space. And though the path ahead may be fraught with uncertainty, I take solace in the knowledge that, like those scattered pennies on the ground, our faith is a beacon of hope amidst the chaos of the world.

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