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 apprizing 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 yo u today?'
>
>'H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure
>look good.'
>
>'They are good, Barr y. How's your Ma?'
>
>'Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time.'
>
>'Good. Anything I can help yo u with?'
>
>'No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas.'
>
>'Would you like 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 said, 'There are two other b oys 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=2 0they 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 visitati on 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.
>
>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!
red marbles
