Listening to: COLDPLAYCOLDPLAYCOLDPLAY.
Feeling: tired
Random: http://blog.makezine.com/archive/2009/01/thousands_of_shopping_carts_stake_o.html?CMP=OTC-0D6B48984890
"A Great Story."
Someone posted this on Facebook.
During the waning years of the depression in a small 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 day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small
boy,
Delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising 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. 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?"
"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 the occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho
Community and while I was there I 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 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 mentioned
The story she had told me about the 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.
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 right where you left them.......
They say it takes a minute to find a special person,
An hour to appreciate them,
A day to love them,
But an entire life to forget them.
Send this to the people you'll never forget.
If you don't send it to anyone, it means you are in too much of a
Hurry and your friends probably already feel forgotten.
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