My Gold

A few years back,
I can still remember that convention
in mid-winter. 

There was a booth
showcasing relics from WWII. 
Helmets,
watches,
flags,
medals. 

A man,
a bearded man 
fate, 
had asked me a question. 

He held a green rectangle piece of paper. 
From his lips he spoke:
"What does this look like to you?"

I didn't know what to say
afraid
that it would be the wrong answer. 

"Go on." 
fate encouraged. 

"A dollar bill." 

"That's right." 
Fate then told me the following story:
"The Philipines were a part of the United States. But the Japanese took them over in WWII. To make the people believe the Japanese were just as good as the Americans, the Japanese made dollars. If you look here, they put the 10 in circles in the corners like the American bill, the decorated borders, even a portrait of a Japanese statue, and Japanese letters at the bottom. In the middle of both sides it says "Pesos", the Philipian currency. Look, they even put it in English."

The man saw my eyes go wide 
and had graciously
handed it to me.

I put the soft, fragile piece of history between my fingers,
it was so beautiful. 

Then the man said something
only an angel could say. 
"You can have it." 



Since then, 
this little dollar 
stand protected in my possession
between the pages of prayers

It's my own piece of history
It's my own little story I get to keep.
It's my own gold.