| 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 
                                              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 (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 
                                              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 
                                              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 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 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. |