I remember when a quarter was everything.  It got you a drink at the roller rink, a giant gum ball, or a prize from a toy machine.  It could allow you to make a phone call, and — best of all — it bought you a game at the arcade; my favorites were Centipede and Arkanoid.  A quarter was like a passport to the world.  People under 20 have no idea what a public phone even looked like and now arcade games cost an astounding dollar or even more.  On top of that they don’t even TAKE quarters; you put your money on a card and slide away.  I hoarded quarters and chose very carefully how I would spend mine.  It was a tangible thing that made a kid feel empowered.  Having said that, now I try to keep $5 in cash to use in parking garages and I never carry change.  One of my fondest memories growing up was of playing air hockey with my daddy.  He was really good, and he let me win less and less as I got older until we eventually had epic battles.  We never had our own table, but we loved to play.  So when I saw an air hockey machine I knew I had to introduce my little one to it!  She got all excited and then I realized I had no coins, no cash, and not even cards for an ATM.  (Now I just pay using my phone or watch.)  We were heartbroken and I told her we would have to play some other time.  A guy playing pool nearby overheard us, came over, and plopped four quarters in my hand.  “So you can play air hockey,” he said.  I stood there in total shock holding the money while my little one was tugging on my other hand excitedly saying, “Mama!  Let’s go play!”  Becoming unfrozen, I asked her, “What do we say?” and my little one looked up at him with barely contained restraint.  “Thank you sir,” she said, sounding like Oliver Twist.  He had no idea of the significance of what he had done.  I showed her how to feed the quarters in just as my daddy had once shown me.  Then I let her get the feel of the game as she accidentally scored for me on her own side.  She looked so upset I “accidentally” did the same and she squealed with glee.  “Oh it’s ON!” I told her as I hunched dramatically over the table, shifting my weight from side to side and squinting my eyes.  Jumping up and down she said, “I’m gonna beat you Mama!” and of course I let her.  Our first precious game was over and I went to say thank you again to the sweet young man (wow that makes me sound old) who gave us a dollar of his money and a priceless experience.  I asked if I could take his picture and he reluctantly said, “Yes ma’am.”  It made me feel positively ancient hearing that but I knew he was not only kind but polite.  The American essayist Washington Irving wrote, “A kind heart is a fountain of gladness, making everything in its vicinity freshen into smiles.”  His sweet, selfless gesture brought us such joy and made us smile.  We were blessed to have encountered a kind heart.