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“Counting The Currency of Wisdom and Compassion”

The Wishing Well’s Whispers

In the bustling town of Summer Haven, where cobblestone streets wound souls like ancient secrets, there stood a park. A haven of laughter and sunlight. And at the heart of this park lay a fountain, its waters dancing in the sun’s embrace. But this was no ordinary fountain; it was a wishing well—an enchanted vessel that held dreams, secrets, and the shimmer of countless coins.

As a child, I wandered those streets, my bare feet tracing the worn stones. My parents, carnival folk with hearts just as weathered as the tents they worked in: before retiring to the bus that we all slept in. It was this bus that we called home, I recall the lessons that were learned, that taught me the art of survival.

We were outsiders, carnies and our laughter often echoed against judgmental glances, because we were there today, but we would be gone tomorrow. The townspeople reveled in the carnival’s magic, yet their kindness was reserved for the cotton candy and the whirling rides.

The fountain beckoned me—a siren of copper and wishes. Coins glistened beneath the water’s surface, each one a silent plea. I wondered: Could these coins transform our tattered existence? Could they weave dreams into reality?

One day, hunger gnawing at my belly, I watched as a well-dressed couple strolled by. Their children laughed, their pockets jingling with tokens for the carousel. They squealed in delight of the greatest birthday present ever, a trip to the carnival! I imagined their wishes—ice cream, perhaps, or the shiny new toys.

Trying to ignore their parents’ disgust for us and how dirty we appeared. My brother and I bartered free tickets, to satisfy our hunger with hotdogs, and our own laughter for a chance for them to ride the Ferris wheel and to play free games from our parent’s booth.

But the fountain held more than coins; it held stories. I saw the waitress at the diner—the one who served us with a weary smile. Her apron sagged under the weight of spilled coffee and unspoken dreams. And there, on the table, laid tips—crumpled bills left behind by patrons who never wanted to know her name. It shames me to admit, that my brother and I went from table to table gathering her tips for ourselves.

One evening, temptation whispered louder than our hunger. The memory of the fountain’s coins gleamed, winking at me. I imagined my parents’ joy if we could gather them all and exchange them for bread and warmth. But my parents, wise in their own way, caught me eyeing the fountain. They pulled me close, their voices low.

“Child,” my mother said, “those coins are wishes. Each one carries a heart’s desire. To take them would be to steal someone else’s dreams.” My father nodded solemnly. “We may be poor, but we won’t rob others of their hopes, dreams, or their hard work.”

And so, I learned the secret of the fountain—a lesson etched in water and echoed through generations. We didn’t need the coins and we didn’t need the waitress’s tips; we needed compassion from strangers. We returned the waitress’s tips, our apologies sincerely added. We left the fountain untouched, its wishes intact.

Years later, as I stand by that same fountain, I see children toss coins with closed eyes, their wishes whispered to the wind. And I smile, for I know that kindness, not copper, changes the world. The fountain, like my parents’ love, remains—a testament to resilience, to dreams shared, and to the magic that lingers when we honor each other’s wishes.

The waitress in the diner is a testament to the forgiveness; that she so graciously extended to my brother and I, when we had to return the tips we had selfishly taken from her. Years later I had no idea that as a server, I too would be counting on my tips to provide for my own children.

I certainly did not imagine that one of my daughters would also be repeating history; and become a waitress, yet even today as my daughter witnesses the unkindness of a customer, not leaving a tip; my daughter is breaking those curses! Giving a tip not only for the service she was given; but for the service the waitress provided to another table, that had no tip. I have God to thank for that! My daughter will not only tip for herself and her family; but she will go above and beyond and cover someone else’s tip! That is Divine Grace at it’s finest!

Pennies from Heaven: A Tale of Copper Blessings

In the quaint town of Willow Creek, nestled among rolling hills and whispering pines, there lived a young boy named Charlie. His eyes held the wonder of a thousand constellations, and his heartbeat in rhythm with the secrets of the universe. But it was his unusual hobby that set him apart: Charlie collected pennies.

Not just any pennies, mind you. Charlie believed that each copper coin he found on the ground was a gift from the heavens—a whispered blessing meant only for him. His pockets jingled with these celestial tokens, and he treasured them like fragments of stardust.

One crisp autumn afternoon, as the leaves danced in golden swirls, Charlie walked home from the one-room schoolhouse. His worn shoes scuffed the cobblestone streets, and the air carried the scent of pine needles crushed underfoot. The sun dipped low, casting long shadows, and there it was—a glimmer of copper peeking through the grass.

Charlie’s heart skipped a beat. He bent down, fingers brushing the cool metal. The penny bore the year 1957, its edges slightly worn. He held it up to the sky, as if seeking approval from unseen forces. “Thank you,” he whispered, and the wind carried his gratitude across the fields.

That night, a tempest brewed—a tempest that would etch itself into Willow Creek’s history. Thunder rumbled like ancient giants playing dice, and lightning forked the sky. Rain fell in torrents, washing away the dust of ordinary days. And when dawn painted the horizon, the townsfolk emerged from their cozy homes to witness a miracle.

Where the storm had raged fiercest, the streets now gleamed with pennies. Thousands of them, scattered like fallen stars. The townspeople stood in awe, their disbelief melting into wonder. Charlie, too, stood there, his eyes wide open. He recognized the very penny he’d found—the 1957 one—now nestled among its brethren.

The legend of “Pennies from Heaven” spread like wildfire. Visitors arrived from neighboring towns, drawn by whispers of magic and copper blessings. They watched as Charlie, with reverence, picked up each penny, feeling their weight in his palm. His smile held the warmth of sun-kissed memories.

But Charlie was no hoarder. He knew these coins weren’t meant for him alone. So, with wisdom beyond his years, he donated the pennies to the town. They used them to build a park—a place where children laughed, lovers strolled, and dreams took flight. The copper coins became steppingstones, connecting hearts and generations.

And so it was—a tale of pennies, storms, and the magic that lingers when we believe. People from all over came to see the boy who had predicted the heavenly gift. Charlie, however, remained humble. And so, just as the legend of “Pennies from Heaven” was born, it too touches my life even today! A tale of hope, generosity, and the simple belief that sometimes, the universe listens and responds in the most unexpected ways.

The Currency of Compassion: Carving a Legacy

In the quiet corners of memory, where childhood dreams and carnival lights intertwine, there lies a truth—a truth etched in copper and whispered by the wind. Forget for just a moment, the fabled wells and the mythical towns; and let us journey through my own story—the one that shaped infiniteluxuries.com and the person I am becoming.

Wisdom, Compassion, and the Currency of Caring: As children, we have all tossed coins into fountains, wishing wells, wished upon stars, looked for hours in a clover patch to find one with 4 leaves and chanted bedtime prayers, believing that they somehow held magical powers.

But, my friend, I saw some things beyond the glimmer, glamour and glitz. I wondered why those coins remained untouched, their wishes unfulfilled, and the poverty!  Just like the carnival dust, clung to my skin, and the sting of many selfish people’s words, it’s the lessons and memories that my parents taught us! To do right and to let go of the wrong. Their love, though worn thin, carried the weight of compassion.

Now, as an adult, I am carving my legacy—a legacy not measured in gold but etched in hearts and souls. I seek wisdom—the kind that transcends textbooks and history. It’s the wisdom of knowing that kindness is not a currency, yet it changes lives. And so, as I gather fragments of visions, affirmations, and whispered hopes present and past.

I move towards goals, vision boards, and affirmations. Not seeking the traditional fame and the fortune of millions that is believed to come with it, but remaining humble and remembering where I came from and the struggles I met upon my journey. And telling stories that resonate with the journey I travel daily.

The Greed Of Midasville Is not Gold

In the bustling city of Midasville, where skyscrapers kissed the clouds and the streets echoed with the clink of coins, there was a peculiar shop that sold nothing but advice. The sign above the door reads, “ A Penny for Your Thoughts.”

The owner, an old man named Mr. Copper, had a reputation for being miserly. He would listen to people’s troubles, offer his “two cents,” and demand a penny in return. But his words were often hollow, his advice insincere. People left feeling unheard, their problems trivialized by Mr. Copper’s lack of empathy.

One day, a young girl named Lily entered the shop. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her hands clutched a single quarter. “I need to find just one person who cares,” she whispered.

Mr. Copper scoffed. “Here’s a penny for your thoughts, but don’t expect me to care.”

Lily shook her head. “I don’t want your penny, nor your two cents worth of bad advice. This quarter,” she said, holding it up, “is all I have. I hoped to find someone who genuinely cared, but I see now that caring is a currency you do not trade in.”

With that, Lily left the shop. As she walked away, something miraculous happened. The quarter in her hand began to glow, and from it sprang forth a cascade of pennies, raining down upon the city. Each penny landed in the hands of a person who needed it most, accompanied by a whisper of encouragement, a gesture of kindness.

The people of Midasville were astounded. They realized that the true value of money lay not in its purchasing power, but in its ability to bless others when given with love and care.

As for Mr. Copper, he watched in silence as his shop faded away, replaced by a park where people gathered to share their thoughts and support each other. The sign above now reads, “A Quarter for Someone Who Cares.”

And so, Midasville learned the price of not caring—a price far greater than any coin. For in the end, it was the warmth of compassion, not the coldness of cash, that held the power to change lives.

Golden Opportunities Lie In Solitude

It is my deepest desire that the right people will see my stories and that their lives will be transformed. When I write journals and blog, or someone sees my vision boards, and they read my affirmations, that they know that I do care, and that compassion does not come from the wealth of money, but it comes from the pain of the journey traveled.

Vision Boards and Affirmations: Vision boards— they are but a canvas of dreams— to hang on your walls. I pin images of sunrises, open roads, and laughter shared. Each picture whispers, “This is who I’ll be.”  This is who I am! And me, with a pen in my hand, I often write affirmations into a journal! Words that mold my reality. “I am enough,”! I am worthy! I have a gift to be shared! And yes; I declare it all, and I give gratitude and thanks to God Above. Because “My legacy blooms in kindness.” And that’s where my roots were planted so long ago.

As the pages of my websites are filled with delightful images, stories, poems, recipes and other materials. I have chosen each piece, and they represent a small piece of who I was, who I am becoming as well as who I want to be. They are signs of growth; they do not represent perfection, nor do they hold judgement of any kind. I am for today who God created me to be, imperfect yes, but desiring to become everything he intended for me to be! Next year I will be a new creation with new challenges and new stories.

So I hope: Pennies from Heaven and Unkind Cents: offers healing to a few broken hearts and, As my blog post takes shape—a mosaic of memories transformed. Pennies from heaven—the unexpected gifts—are more than copper. They’re reminders that compassion, like rain, falls on parched souls. And those unkind cents—the unsolicited opinions—they teach resilience. I’ve learned to sift through a lot of noise, to hold onto the truth in the unkind world.

The Quarter That Calls for Caring: Ah, yes the quarter—the currency of caring. When I couldn’t call on anyone, that truly cared, it glowed in my palm. Not for a payphone, but for connection to another human being or to sometimes only God himself. It whispered, “You’re not alone.” And the 2-dollar bill—the rarity—reminded me that value isn’t always obvious. Some treasures hide in plain sight and others you have to seek out for yourself. It’s sometimes within Isolation that you find who you are meant to be!

I have read many books over the years, it is always within the title that the secret lies. The Alone Advantage being my latest. I have always been taught that isolation and being alone was not a good thing. Yet even that has been reframed! God can not use me publicly until I get victory privately!  We all have the same 24 hours every day, and the secret of how we spend our time and our money; is hidden in our agenda.

Today I can cherish those times of solitude. It is those times I protect, I actually enjoy being alone; and being able to discover who I am; and how I got here, those minutes matter and those minutes allow me to write, and hopefully touch someone’s life.

A few years ago I read a book titled out of control and loving it. People thought I was crazy, but I realized I am not out of control at all, I am in control of everything I do; and everything I do shapes how fast I find my purpose; and potential in life. Its not just books that shapes my identity, it is movies and my memories also! As I write this blog post, and I reflect on my memories; I am reminded of a movie I watched a few years ago. That movie was Unconditional which inspires my next story:

Thomas Change The Heart Of Generosia

In the heart of the bustling city of Generosia, there lived a man named Thomas Change. Thomas was no ordinary man; he was a dreamer who believed in the power of small acts to create big ripples. He had a peculiar habit that caught the attention of everyone in Generosia—he gave out two-dollar bills to anyone he met.

Thomas’s journey began on a day much like any other, except on this day, he found a crisp two-dollar bill on the sidewalk. Instead of pocketing it, he handed it to a stranger with a simple message, “This is for you, a token to remind you that change begins with us.”

Word of Thomas’s two-dollar gifts spread like fireballs. People from all walks of life found themselves in possession of a bill from Thomas. Each recipient felt a strange warmth in their heart, a spark of something more than just monetary value.

As the days turned into weeks, a transformation swept over Generosia. The two-dollar bills became symbols of kindness, conversation starters, and bridges between strangers. People started to pay the gesture forward, helping one another without expecting anything in return.

Thomas’s belief that generosity could change the world was no longer just a belief—it was a reality unfolding before his eyes. The two-dollar bills had become more than currency; they were emblems of hope, unity, and the undeniable truth that even the smallest act of caring has the potential to turn the tide of fate.

And so, the legend of Thomas Change and his two-dollar bills became a testament to the power of unconditional giving, proving that sometimes, the smallest change can make the richest difference.

Legacy Carved in Compassion

In the tapestry of life, where threads of memory and dreams weave together, I stand—an architect of legacy. As an adult, my canvas stretches beyond self to embrace children, grandchildren, and even those who aren’t always kind. Wisdom and compassion—my guiding stars—illuminate the path.

Wisdom’s Whisper and Gradual Accumulation: Proverbs 13:11 echoes through time: “Wealth gained hastily will dwindle, but whoever gathers little by little will increase it.” The gradual accumulation—the patient stewardship—shapes my legacy. Like a sculptor chiseling marble, I carve out my abundance with care.

Blessings Overtaking Obedience: Deuteronomy 28:2 paints a celestial promise: “And all these blessings shall come upon you and overtake you, if you obey the voice of the Lord your God.” Obedience— is my compass pointing north— and leads to blessings. They chase me, like sunbeams through the leaves.

God’s Gift Wealth and Joy: Ecclesiastes 5:19 whispers of divine generosity: “Moreover, when God gives someone wealth and possessions, and the ability to enjoy them, to accept their lot and be happy in their toil—this is a gift of God.” Wealth—a gift to be savored, not hoarded. Joy blooms in acceptance.

The Blessing Without Sorrow: Proverbs 10:22—a verse etched in gold: “The blessing of the Lord makes rich, and he adds no sorrow with it.” My wealth, whether material or of the heart, carries no burden. It’s a river flowing without dams, a melody without dissonance.

Sowing Generosity, Reaping Abundance: 2 Corinthians 9:6-7—a symphony of giving: “Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” My hands scatter seeds of kindness, and the harvest of abundant blessings—awaits.

Money’s Dual Nature: Not Evil, but Usage: Remember this truth: Money isn’t inherently evil; it’s the hands that wield it. Like fire, it warms or burns. My legacy—of infiniteluxuries.com I am crafting—is more than a website; it’s a ripple of compassion, a testament to God’s grace.

Walt Disney’s Magic and Mine Did not always agree! But Did Walt Disney see it too? Perhaps. His magic wasn’t just in fairy tales; it was in the kindness woven into Cinderella’s rags and Simba’s roar. My life, though not a fairy tale, holds its own enchantment—the resilience, the empathy, and the carnival dust that shaped me. Now I have never been to Disney Land, or to Walt Disney World, but those timeless tales weave a story filled with a lot of truth shown from both sides of the coin. He didn’t paint a picture that hid the ugly truth, he reframed it and turned it into something that held beauty!

Perhaps it changed just a few cruel peoples thoughts, although a local carnival is not at all on the same level as a theme park, it still requires blue collar working people to make your dreams come true! Was Walt Disney Charlie when he was believing in his dreams? I would venture to say that his journey held many lessons that we do not all see.

Certainly, the Bible has several passages that speak to the stewardship of money and the blessings that come with it. Here are a few scriptures that may resonate with the themes I have been exploring:

Proverbs 13:11: “Wealth gained hastily will dwindle, but whoever gathers little by little will increase it.” This verse speaks to the idea of gradual accumulation and responsible stewardship of wealth.

Deuteronomy 28:2: “And all these blessings shall come upon you and overtake you, if you obey the voice of the Lord your God.” This passage suggests that blessings, including material ones, follow obedience to God.

Ecclesiastes 5:19: “Moreover, when God gives someone wealth and possessions, and the ability to enjoy them, to accept their lot and be happy in their toil—this is a gift of God.” This verse acknowledges wealth as a blessing from God to be enjoyed and appreciated.

Proverbs 10:22: “The blessing of the Lord makes rich, and he adds no sorrow with it.” This scripture highlights that the blessings from God, including financial ones, come without negative repercussions.

2 Corinthians 9:6-7: “The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” This passage encourages generous giving and promises that it leads to abundant blessings.

These verses offer insight into the biblical perspective on money, emphasizing the importance of wise stewardship and the joy of sharing blessings with others. They suggest that money itself is not evil, but rather it is the love of money, and the misuse of it, that can lead to problems. Instead, when used wisely and generously, money can be a tool for good stewardship and a means to bless others.

It is with fond memories that I have crafted a new story from those Carnival Whispers from my Dreams

Carnival Whispers: A Journey of Grace

In the quiet of dawn, where memories and dreams converge, I revisit my carnival days—the cotton candy sweetness, the laughter that clung to my heart like carnival dust. And woven through it all, like a golden thread, is grace—the divine currency that transcends mere coins.

The Carousel of Blessings! As the sun’s gentle rise painted the sky, I counted blessings—the carousel horses spinning in my mind. The birds’ morning song—their melodies like whispered secrets—were notes from God’s own symphony. I learned that even in the carnival’s chaos, grace danced—a carousel of blessings.

The Air We Breathed, and the Love We Shared! The air—the invisible gift—filled my lungs. But love— that was the tangible magic— it wasn’t the currency exchanged between carnival-goers. It flowed like cotton candy spun from heaven’s clouds. And hope—the fragile kite string—held hearts aloft, free from despair.

God’s Canvas, Our Chance Each day—a canvas stretched wide. Each moment—a chance to paint kindness. I sowed seeds of compassion, not in grand gestures, but in the small moments—the tilt-a-whirl of smiles, the bumper cars of forgiveness. Fertile ground for grace to bloom.

The Rain and Sun’s Embrace, I Cherish them both, the rain and the sun. For rain—the tears of heaven—nourishes the soil of our souls. And sun—the warm embrace—kisses our cheeks, reminding us that grace wears many faces. It’s in the carnival rainbows and the sunsets beyond the Ferris wheel.

God’s Tender Grace: The Unseen Ride In every heartbeat, in every breath, grace cradles us. It’s the unseen ride—the roller coaster of life—where we cling to faith. And when the carnival lights dim, grace remains—the last ride, the final encore.

So, my friend, as you carve your legacy, remember: Grace isn’t just a word; it’s the carnival whisper—the divine echo that says, “You’re loved.” Whether it is the 4 leaf clover that I found and passed on to you; to share just a little luck, or it is the stories I crafted in solitude, a silent prayer in your time of need or the 2 dollar bill tucked into a card, they all came from a journey I have had to travel.

**Divine Grace**

In the quiet of dawn, with the world still at rest,

We count all the ways that we’ve been truly blessed.

The sun’s gentle rise, the birds’ morning song,

Are blessings from God, to whom all things belong.

 

The air that we breathe, the love that we share,

The hope in our hearts, free from despair,

Are gifts from above, so freely given,

A taste of the grace that comes from heaven.

 

With hands lifted high, or humbly bowed low,

We thank our Creator, from whom blessings flow.

For the strength in our stride, the peace in our sleep,

For harvests to reap and promises to keep.

 

Each day is a canvas, each moment a chance,

To live in the light of God’s loving glance.

To sow seeds of kindness in fertile ground,

Where the fruits of His spirit are bountifully found.

 

So let’s cherish the rain and the sun’s warm embrace,

And walk in the wisdom of God’s tender grace.

For in every heartbeat, in every breath,

We’re cradled in love, both in life and in death.

Copyright: Brenda Bayless 2024