RED MARBLESI 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 zackleybut 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 toColorado, 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 Idahocommunity
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.
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. No
w, 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!
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