I’m one of those people.

You know, the ones who dart out between cars to grab one penny. The ones who poke gum on a stick to secure a coin in a hole. The one who makes others fall over the top of her as she stops post-haste and bends over to get whatever coin catches her eyes.

I will stop for pennies.

Pennies don’t carry much value, except for making change. They are perhaps the least favorite coin due to the fact that you need 100 before you can even get a dollar bill. Or 25 for a quarter, 10 for a dime, 5 for a nickel.

I still stop for pennies.

No matter their size or value, small things are important.

A smile. A wink. A hug. A pretty rock from a grubby little hand. A ladybug on a sleeve. Flowering weeds clutched and given as a bouquet. A scribbled drawing. A gentle touch. A helpful hand. A peanut butter kiss. A wave. A friendly, “No, you go first.” A penny on the sidewalk.

I stop for pennies. And small things. For small things pile up like treasures until our cups and hearts run over. It’s the small things that count.

Go ahead. Stop for pennies.