Guest guest Posted November 2, 2007 Report Share Posted November 2, 2007 RED MARBLESI was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed asmall boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrilyapprising a basket of freshly picked green peas.I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fre sh greenpeas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation betweenMr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.'Hello Barry, how are you today?''H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure lookgood.''They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?''Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time.''Good. Anything I can help you with?''No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas.''Would you like to take some home?' asked Mr. Miller.'No, Sir. Got nu thin' to pay for 'em with.''Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?''All I got's my prize marble here.''Is that right? Let me see it' said Miller.'Here 'tis. She's a dandy.''I can see that. Hmm mmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of gofor red. Do you have a red one like this at home?' the store owner asked.'Not zackley but almost.''Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip thisway let me look at that red marble'. Mr. Miller told the boy.'Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller.'Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me.With a smile she said, 'There are two other boys like him in ourcommunity, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves tobargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When theycome back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides hedoesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag ofproduce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on theirnext trip to the store.'I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short timelater I moved to Colorado , but I never forgot the story of this man, theboys, and their bartering for marbles.Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Justrecently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho communityand while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were havinghis visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreedto accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meetthe relatives of the deceased and to offer wh atever words of comfort wecould.Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform andthe other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all veryprofessional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed andsmiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissedher on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each youngman stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold palehand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded herof the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening,she took my hand and led me to the casket.'Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about.They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them.Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color orsize....they came to pay their debt.''We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world,' she confided,'but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho .'With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceasedhusband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.The Moral : We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments thattake our breath.Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles ~ A fresh pot of coffee youdidn't make yourself...An unexpected phone call from an oldfriend...Green stoplights on your way to work...The fastest line atthe grocery store...A good sing-along song on the radio...Your keysfound right where you left them.IT'S NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT YOU SCATTER THAT TELLS WHAT KINDOF LIFE YOU HAVE LIVED! Tired of spam? Mail has the best spam protection around Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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