Let me tell you a riddle.
I am green. Depending on the angle, I can look really thin or surprisingly wide. People pass me around. Some hold onto me longer than others. I spend a lot of time folded up in dark, leather spaces with friends who look just like me. Once, I even ended up in a washing machine. It was a harrowing experience, but I survived.
Have you figured it out yet?
You’re right, I’m cash. A crisp $20 bill. Well, I used to be crisp anyway. I’ve circled the country a few times, and I like to think I’m soft and lovable now.
I eventually landed in Knoxville, Tennessee, and I have to say, I like this town. There’s so much to do and see, yet it still feels like a tight-knit community. I hope I get to stay here a while.
My current caretaker, a young woman, grabbed me as she headed out the door to meet friends for coffee near Market Square. She passed me across the counter in exchange for caffeine and a pause in her day, the kind where phones sit face-down and laughter comes easily. That felt like a fair trade to me.
After his shift, I went home with a man who worked there. Turns out he’s a dad, the kind who works long shifts and still stops on the way home because birthdays matter. We drove through North Knoxville and pulled into a small local party store for balloons and streamers. I hope they made that little boy feel loved, the way kids should on their birthdays.
Night fell, the party store closed and I went home with the owner to Rocky Hill. Tired feet, full hands, kids waiting. One of them needed supplies for a school project, so off we went again, this time to a craft store just off Kingston Pike. I held my breath. When money goes to big chains, it often leaves town quickly. But whew, another local stop. Glue sticks, poster board and markers landed on the counter, and I got to stay right here in Knoxville.
A few days later, I found myself tucked into a wallet again, heading to a small barbershop in South Knoxville, the kind where everyone knows everyone and no one’s in a hurry to leave. My caretaker traded me for a haircut, a familiar greeting and the comfort of being known. The barber slid me into the register and went back to work, talking about football and family with the next customer.
I may only be twenty dollars, but moments like this remind me that I don’t have to be big to matter.
Each time I’m spent close to home, I get another chance to stay here, supporting paychecks, birthday celebrations, family dinners, haircuts and school projects along the way. Quietly, transaction by transaction, local dollars (like me!) help strengthen the Knoxville community we all share.
…
That $20 bill didn’t change the world on its own. But multiplied over time, across families, paychecks and small decisions, it made a quiet difference. That’s how money really works.
At its core, financial planning is about intention. At PYA Waltman, it’s about making sure your dollars reflect your values, whether that means supporting local businesses, caring for your family, preparing for the unexpected or building a future right here in Knoxville.
When we plan thoughtfully, our money does more than sit in accounts. It moves with purpose. It supports the life we want to live and the community we’re proud to call home.
PYA Waltman (“PYA”) is an investment adviser registered with the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission. Registration does not imply a level of skill or training. More information about PYA’s investment advisory services can be found in its Form ADV Part 2 and/or Form CRS, which is available upon request. PYA-25-57