Red Marbles....

Many of you probably have read or heard this story before.  I hope you find joy in the message just as much as i did.  Have a blessed day!

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 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 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. Hmm mmm, 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'.

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 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.

Comments

[Stayce]

amazing story! thanks for sharing it.

[scrappermd]

HI Cheryl,
This is Karen, from K2 Scrapbook Studio! Thanks so much for stopping by our blog and posting a comment! I am so touched! We are BIG Creative Imagination fans as you can see! And I will definately ask you for pics next time I am stuck! I have become quite the picture swiper from other websites but sometimes we get stuff BEFORE they hit the web! LOVE it when that happens! HOpe to see you on the blog again! Karen

[SusieQ]

I have heard this so many times but each time it still touches me! such a true quote at the end! thanks!

[jen davis]

I got that as an email forward once and love it, thanks for reminding me of it and it's message today!

[Carole]

What a beautiful story - and how true that we are remembered by the good deeds we do. I hope this story gives inspiration to many of us to do our own good deeds. Thanks very much for this story.

[Tina]

dang... that brought me to tears!

[chelsea kocina]

are you trying to make me cry or what? I miss you lots!!!!!
love you,
chelsea