It’s not what you get that counts…

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. 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’. 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 some 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.

A moment of prayer for someone…

Share with some people you’ll never forget.

I just Did…

If you can’t find time to share this with anyone, it means you are in too much of a hurry

to even notice

the ordinary miracles in life when they occur.

*** Remember if you can not take time for others in this life; how do you think

your name will appear on judgement day in ” The Book of Life” ?