Like everyone, I’ve heard it said countless times that money doesn’t buy you happiness.

It’s taken quite a while, but I think I finally found scientific proof that this old saying isn’t quite accurate.

It’s true that a “lot” of money probably won’t buy you happiness, but you’d be surprised at what small amounts can do for your soul, especially when you add all those small amounts together.

It’s like interest paid on a bank account. It compounds. Like any typical guy, I’ve always been geared towards acquisition and the belief that the next new toy will always be the one that makes you happiest. I don’t have a lot to show for it so far. There’s the old motorcycle that doesn’t run, a rack of fishing gear that never gets used, a guitar that no longer gets strummed and the stack of vintage comic books that never appreciated enough in value to pay for my college education, let alone a good meal.

Should I ever win the Powerball, I thought I always knew how I would spend the jackpot.

My plans went something like this:

I would have a nice — but not too extravagant — home on Lake Wylie, close enough to Cherokee County to commute back to work at The Gaffney Ledger, of course.

There would be a detached five-car garage on the property, as well, to hold my new Ranger bass boat, my new Ford pickup to tow the bass boat, the mid-life crisis yellow Corvette, a nice BMW sport utility vehicle purchased in support of an Upstate company, and the Harley-Davidson I’ve always wanted but could never afford.

But none of that brings true happiness, though.

Does it?

Nowhere in that Powerball jackpot wish list is friendship or a relationship of any kind.

While I’ve always known it in the back of my mind, a two-and-a-half year old girl helped demonstrate that nothing on my wish list really mattered. Sometimes, all it takes to be happy is a mechanical pony, a disposable pet and some pocket change.

Because it’s a rarity for me, I treasure those weekends when I get to spend time with my sister and her family, especially my two-and-a-half year old niece.

Though I’m biased on the subject, my niece is the kind of little girl that lights up a room with her smile, her big blue eyes, and her ability to engage people in conversations, even if they can be tough to decipher.

One recent weekend, all it took to make her smile even brighter, and to put giggles in her belly, was a mere 50 cents plunked into a mechanical pony outside a shopping center. She acted like she was leading down the stretch of the Kentucky Derby, and I laughed along with her.

It’s been a few weeks since and I still smile about the joy she expressed, and the fact such a memory cost only two quarters.

This past weekend, I had the privilege of taking my young niece shopping for her first pet.

At the pet store, she studied all of the selections in front of her with amazing seriousness, poking and tapping at each one, and holding each up to the lights, until she found her “Dorie.”

“Dorie,” which is an admittedly feminine name to give to a male betta fish, has been the center of her attention ever since.

I think she named him “Dorie” after the blue fish voiced by Ellen Degeneres in the “Finding Nemo” movie, but I guess it really doesn’t matter and I have no intention of correcting her.

“Dorie” is her friend and that’s his name.

My niece was so enthralled with “Dorie” she wanted to hold his plastic container the entire way home. She never spilled a drop of “Dorie’s” water, and never fell asleep during the car ride despite it being long past her afternoon nap time.

Back at home, she sang Happy Birthday to “Dorie” and blew out a candle for him as if bringing a fish home from a pet store represented a birthday.

My sister has reported on various occasions since then that my niece remains fixated on “Dorie.”

Looking back at all the money I’ve ever spent, and thinking about all the ways I could spend a Powerball jackpot, I still can’t find a better value than a little blue betta fish.

“Dorie” represents the best $3 I ever spent.

No doubt, there’s many other ways you can do something that brings just as much personal fulfillment.

You can donate to your church.

You can donate to your favorite charity, and there’s plenty of deserving charities out there.

And when there’s no money in your pocket whatsoever, you can donate your time. There are plenty of organizations that can use a little woman or manpower and, sometimes, all you have to give is your friendship.

Today, you’ll no doubt notice some special pages in The Gaffney Ledger. The pages were designed to honor the memory of a local hero, Lance Cpl. Christopher Fowlkes, and give people a chance to donate to a scholarship fund in his name.

Hundreds of people responded, as you can see by the long list of local residents and businesses. Some came into The Gaffney Ledger mere minutes after Monday’s edition, which contained the first advertisement for the proposal, hit the streets.

While the subject matter reminds us of a great loss to our community, I hope the project brings a smile to someone’s face, whether it be a member of Christopher’s fine family, his friends, the first recipient of the Lance Cpl. Christopher Fowlkes Scholarship, or Christopher himself.

We could use some smiles here in Gaffney.

Imagine what a wonderful world this would be if we all smiled like a young child at the wonderment of something so simple and serene as a little blue fish in a glass bowl.

Imagine what a wonderful world this can be if we all, in our own way, add another fish to the bowl.

The beauty compounds.