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Faith, Hope and Charity > A Story on How To Practise LOVE  25 августа 2009 г. 09:19:54

A Story on How To Practise LOVE

FaithHopeCharity 25 августа 2009 г. 09:19:54
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' th em 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

'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 where you left them.

:-)­ =^B­ :-)­

Музыка Soft
Настроение: Pensive
Хочется: to count my blessings
Категории: Marbles, Barter, Love, Practise

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Faith, Hope and Charity > A Story on How To Practise LOVE  25 августа 2009 г. 09:19:54

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