>>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
>>"Sure will. < B> 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
>>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 whe re you left them.
>>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!
i got this from a different forum and i thought i fit in here because of all the nice people here that are willing to help all that come here for help