Never forget the power each of us holds and that most of the time the people whom we touch, we will never see their fruit come to blossom. My friend sent this to me and it was a good reminder to be a good human being and don't be evil...life is too short. Giving with an unselfish heart is the greatest gift of all and one of the secrets in life.
>>>> 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..
>>>
>>>> IT'S NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT YOU SCATTER
>>> THAT TELLS WHAT KIND OF LIFE YOU HAVE LIVED
>>>> 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..
>>>
>>>> IT'S NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT YOU SCATTER
>>> THAT TELLS WHAT KIND OF LIFE YOU HAVE LIVED
