During the waning years of the depression in a small southeastern
Idaho community, I used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for
farm-fresh produce as the season made it available. Food and money
were still extremely scarce and bartering was used, extensively.
One particular day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for
me. 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 and the ragged boy next to me.
"Hello Barry, how are you today?"
"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya.
Jus' admirin' them peas ... 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?"
"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."
"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."
"I can see that. Hmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort
of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"
"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."
"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, perhaps."
I left the stand, 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.
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 viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted
to go, I agreed to accompany them.
Upon our 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 ...
very professional looking.
They approached Mrs. Miller, standing smiling and composed, 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. 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 mentioned
the story she had told me about the marbles. 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.
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.
P.S. God Loves You.
A wish for you!
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 or shop.
I wish you a day of little things to rejoice in...
The fastest line at the grocery store.
A good sing along song on the radio.
Your keys right where you look.
I wish you a day of happiness and
perfection -- little bite-size pieces of perfection that give you
the funny feeling that the Lord is smiling on you, holding you so
gently because you are someone special and rare.
I wish You a day of Peace, Happiness and Joy.
They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to
appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to
forget
them.
Send this phrase to the people you'll never forget and remember to
send it also to the person who sent it to you. It's a short message
to let them know that you'll never forget them.
If you don't send it to anyone, it means you're in too much of a
hurry and that you've probably forgotten your friends.
Take the time!
