[hoarsewhisperer]

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 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.



Send this to the people you'll never forget. I just Did...

If you don't send it to anyone, it means you
are in way too much of a hurry to even notice the ordinary miracles when they
occur.

IT'S NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT YOU SCATTER THAT TELLS WHAT
KIND OF LIFE YOU HAVE LIVED!