Contributions or Collections That Matters??

We are so busy with our daily lives that we always take things for granted around us. When one day THE day comes where we are to part from this world and continue into the next world, do people mourn for our passing or is it just another event in the day where people come give respect and after that totally forget about us?! It is true that what is matters is actually what we give others in this life may they be the dear and close to our hearts or strangers that in need of help.

RED MARBLES

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 me to get you a bag of those peas?"
"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 marbles. Do you think you have a red
one at home?" he 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.

I recently 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 beside her husbands casket.

Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the
cheek, spoke briefly with her and then 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.

Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles ~

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.
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!