Lost coin story
A re-telling of the story, with all ages in mind : if I was telling it I think I would carry a broom!
The lost coin – the woman’s story
I’m sure you know what it’s like when you’ve lost something. That sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach and the maddening little voice in your head that says ‘it must be here somewhere – LOOK!’. You go round in circles, you look in places you know you’ve looked already, but you’re just getting desperate. The frustration, the sadness, the anger with yourself…where IS it?
That’s just what I was like when I lost one of my silver coins. You might be thinking – one coin, big deal! – but it was a denarius, that’s one day’s wages for my husband, Eli. We’d saved up 10 of them, you see, 10 coins. Enough for a lovely trip away somewhere, or a really special meal for all our friends and family, maybe a great big rug.. we hadn’t really decided what to do with it. But we kept those 10 coins safe.
Then one day I was counting them – I loved doing that, unwrapping the cloth, looking at them glittering in the darkness, feeling the weight of the silver – sometimes I even imagined they had a special smell, like richness. 10 silver coins, our little treasure, our fortune, our treat. So there I was, holding them, counting them.. and I heard a terrible noise ‘Chink!’ – I was sure one of the coins had dropped on the floor – but I looked and I couldn’t see anything. Perhaps I’d imagined it? But then I counted – oh no! just 9 coins. I had dropped one, where on earth had it gone?.
I looked around of course – ‘it can’t have got far’ I thought. Under the mat, you know how a coin can roll – under the table, the chairs. No sign! Perhaps down a crack in the floor? I got on my hands & knees – but just couldn’t see it. So I got my broom out & swept everywhere – plenty of dust, as usual – but I kept stopping & looking in the bits I’d swept up… looking… sweeping…searching… and then - a glint of light in the dust, a silver edge, a curve of.. a coin! There it was! My lost coin – found!
I wrapped it up safe with the other 9 & then I rushed out into the street – my friends were standing by the well – probably wondered what I was so excited about, rushing up to them, dusty and flustered. And I said ‘Great news! I found my coin that I’d lost – my silver coin – leave your water jugs and come in to the house to celebrate with me!’. Soon I was telling them the whole story and we were all laughing and drinking and happy – what was lost had been found.
The lost coin – the woman’s story
I’m sure you know what it’s like when you’ve lost something. That sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach and the maddening little voice in your head that says ‘it must be here somewhere – LOOK!’. You go round in circles, you look in places you know you’ve looked already, but you’re just getting desperate. The frustration, the sadness, the anger with yourself…where IS it?
That’s just what I was like when I lost one of my silver coins. You might be thinking – one coin, big deal! – but it was a denarius, that’s one day’s wages for my husband, Eli. We’d saved up 10 of them, you see, 10 coins. Enough for a lovely trip away somewhere, or a really special meal for all our friends and family, maybe a great big rug.. we hadn’t really decided what to do with it. But we kept those 10 coins safe.
Then one day I was counting them – I loved doing that, unwrapping the cloth, looking at them glittering in the darkness, feeling the weight of the silver – sometimes I even imagined they had a special smell, like richness. 10 silver coins, our little treasure, our fortune, our treat. So there I was, holding them, counting them.. and I heard a terrible noise ‘Chink!’ – I was sure one of the coins had dropped on the floor – but I looked and I couldn’t see anything. Perhaps I’d imagined it? But then I counted – oh no! just 9 coins. I had dropped one, where on earth had it gone?.
I looked around of course – ‘it can’t have got far’ I thought. Under the mat, you know how a coin can roll – under the table, the chairs. No sign! Perhaps down a crack in the floor? I got on my hands & knees – but just couldn’t see it. So I got my broom out & swept everywhere – plenty of dust, as usual – but I kept stopping & looking in the bits I’d swept up… looking… sweeping…searching… and then - a glint of light in the dust, a silver edge, a curve of.. a coin! There it was! My lost coin – found!
I wrapped it up safe with the other 9 & then I rushed out into the street – my friends were standing by the well – probably wondered what I was so excited about, rushing up to them, dusty and flustered. And I said ‘Great news! I found my coin that I’d lost – my silver coin – leave your water jugs and come in to the house to celebrate with me!’. Soon I was telling them the whole story and we were all laughing and drinking and happy – what was lost had been found.
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