Three Dollar High

Today while I was plugging through my clinic, one of the patients placed three dollars worth of New Zealand coinage on my desk. Apparently the prior patient has lost it out his back pocket. I kindly told the discoverer to keep the money, but she simply replied I should keep it for my trouble. So, I placed it in my pocket and didn't think much about it. Then as I was going about my lunchtime errands I passed by my favorite cafe, setting off my salivary glands in true Pavlovian fashion for a good cuppa. Momentarily disheartened, as I failed to bring my wallet, I remembered the coinage in my pocket and headed inside. Gleefully placing the money on the counter I waited for my new coffee drink of choice: Trim Flat White. An interesting phenomenon followed. The owner of the cafe came over and started asking me about my trip home to America, a bit of information I'd forgotten I'd relayed to her. Then another townie, whom I'd only met once (at another local cafe) came over and struck up conversation. On the way out, I ran into a dear patient of mine and chatted with her for awhile. I felt like some local celebrity with all the attention. As I walked out the door, glorious hot beverage in hand, I realized that for as inconspicuous as I perceive myself to be, or might want to be, I will be recognized and revered as part of this community. I couldn't do anything but smile.

All this from three simple dollars.