Admin
|
Great Story....RED MARBLES
Posted : 2 May, 2008 07:11 PM
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 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 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 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.
> >
> > 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 wa s 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 ju st 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.
> >
:goofball:
Post Reply
|
