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Red Marbles

I was at the corner grocery store buying some early  potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature,  ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked  green peas.    

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to  the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas  and new potatoes..

Pondering the peas, I couldn't help  overhearing the conversation between Mr. 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 look good.'

'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 nuthin'  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. Hmmmmm, only thing  is this one is blue and I sort of go for 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 this way 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 our community, all three are in very poor  circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas,  apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red  marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after  all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green  marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the  store.'  

 

I left the store smiling to myself,  impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado ,  but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their  bartering for marbles.

Several years went by, each more  rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit  some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was  there learned that Mr. Miller had died.  

They  were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends  wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased  and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of  us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and  the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs.  Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket.  Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke  briefly with her and moved on to the casket.  

Top of Form

Bottom of Form

Her  misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man  stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale  hand 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 her of 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 or size....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  deceased husband. 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 that take our breath..  

Today I wish you  a day of ordinary miracles ~ A fresh pot of coffee you didn't make  yourself...An unexpected phone call from an old  friend...Green  stoplights on your way to work....The fastest line at the grocery  store...A good sing-along song on the radio...Your keys found  right where you left them.  

IT'S  NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT YOU SCATTER THAT TELLS WHAT  KIND OF  LIFE YOU HAVE LIVED   -- AND THAT IS WHY PEOPLE LIKE JESUS AND BUDDHA AND MAHAVEERA AND MANY OTHER PHILOSOPHERS SAID - GIVE AND IT SHALL BE GIVEN BACK TO YOU PRESSED DOWN AND SHAKEN TOGETHER THREE TIMES OVER. ITS ONLY WHAT YOU GIVE OUT IN PLENTY THAT COMES BACK TO YOU - GIVE HATE AND IT COMES BACK IN MANY FORMS NOT JUST HATE, GIVE LOVE AND GIVE OF YOURSELF AND SEE WHAT BLOOMS IN YOUR LIFE.

 

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