My dad loved pennies, especially those with the elegant stalk of wheat curving around each side of the ONE CENT on the back. Those were the pennies he grew up with during the Depression  . As a kid, I would go for walks with Dad, spying coins along the way--a penny here, a dime   there. Whenever I picked up a penny, he'd ask, "Is it a wheat?" It always thrilled him when we found one of those special coins produced between 1909 and 1958, the year of my birth. One gray Sunday morning in winter, not long after my father's death in 2002, I was walking down Fifth Avenue, feeling  _ . I found myself in front of the church where Dad once worked. I was warmly shown in and led to a seat. Hearing Dad's favorite "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God", I burst into tears. We'd sung that at his funeral. After the service, I shook the pastor's hand and stepped onto the sidewalk--and there was a penny. I bent to pick it up, turned it over, and sure enough, it was a wheat. A 1944, a year my father was serving on a ship in the South Pacific. That started it. Suddenly wheat pennies began turning up on the sidewalks of New York everywhere. I got most of the important years: his birth year, my mom's birth year, the year he graduated from college, the year he met my mom, the year they got married, the year my sister was born. But alas, no 1958 wheat penny--my year, the last year they were made.     The next Sunday, after the service, I was walking up Fifth Avenue and spotted a penny in the middle of a crossing. Oh, no, it was a busy street;cabs were speeding by--should I risk it? I just had to get it. A wheat! But the penny was worn, and I couldn't read the date. On arriving home, I took out my glasses and took it to the light. There was my birthday! I found 21 wheat pennies on the streets of Manhattan in the year after my father died, and I don't think that's a coincidence. The best title for the passage would probably be   _  .
Pennies from Heaven My father's life story My father's hobby Living in New York