mugsy
10-02-2003, 08:03 PM
This is long, but worth the read......
To My Friends
>> >
>> > During the waning years of the depression in a small
>> >
>> > Idaho community, I used to stop by Mr. Miller's
>> >
>> > roadside stand for farm fresh produce as the season
>> >
>> > made it available. Food and money were still extremely
>> >
>> > scarce and bartering was used extensively.
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > One day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes
>> >
>> > for me. I noticed a small boy, 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 and the ragged boy next to me.
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > "Hello Barry, how are you today?"
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > "H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them
>> >
>> > peas...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?"
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > "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."
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > "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?"
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > "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."
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > "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, perhaps."
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > I left the stand smiling to myself, imp ressed 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. 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 viewing 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 mentioned the story she had told me about the
>> >
>> > 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 apprecia ted 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.
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > 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 right where you left them
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > They say it takes a minute to find a special person,
>> >
>> > An hour to appreciate them, A day to love them, But an
>> >
>> > entire life to forget them.
>> >
>> >
To My Friends
>> >
>> > During the waning years of the depression in a small
>> >
>> > Idaho community, I used to stop by Mr. Miller's
>> >
>> > roadside stand for farm fresh produce as the season
>> >
>> > made it available. Food and money were still extremely
>> >
>> > scarce and bartering was used extensively.
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > One day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes
>> >
>> > for me. I noticed a small boy, 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 and the ragged boy next to me.
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > "Hello Barry, how are you today?"
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > "H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them
>> >
>> > peas...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?"
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > "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."
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > "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?"
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > "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."
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > "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, perhaps."
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > I left the stand smiling to myself, imp ressed 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. 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 viewing 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 mentioned the story she had told me about the
>> >
>> > 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 apprecia ted 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.
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > 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 right where you left them
>> >
>> >
>> >
>> > They say it takes a minute to find a special person,
>> >
>> > An hour to appreciate them, A day to love them, But an
>> >
>> > entire life to forget them.
>> >
>> >