You will find as you look back upon your life, that the moments when you really lived are the moments when you have done things in the spirit of love
Henry Drummond

InspirEmail

InspirEmail No 50 - December 20, 2004
'Inspirational messages to refresh the spirit and boost the emotional bank account'

The Red Marbles

Barbara Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily looking at 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, 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?'

'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, 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.

Several years went by, each more rapid that the previous one and I had occasion to visit some old friends 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 appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about colour or size, they came to pay their debt.'

'We've never had a great deal of the wealth,' 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.

Author Unknown
With my thanks to Mal Hales - Eaglehawk Victoria

What is a Grandparent?

As seen through the eyes of a class of 8-year-olds

Grandparents are a lady and a man who have no little children of their own. They like other people's
A grandfather is a man grandmother.
Grandparents don't have to do anything except be there when we come to see them.
When they take us for walks, they slow down past things like pretty leaves and caterpillars.
They show us and talk to us about the colour of the flowers and also why we shouldn't step on 'cracks'.
They don't say, 'Hurry up'.
Usually grandmothers are fat, but not too fat to tie your shoes.
They wear glasses and funny underwear.
They can take their teeth and gums out.
Grandparents don't have to be smart.
They have to answer questions like 'why isn't God married?' and 'How come dogs chase cats?'.
When they read to us, they don't skip and they don't mind if we ask for the same story over again.
Everybody should try to have a grandmother, especially if you don't have a television, because they are the only grown ups who like to spend time with us.
They know we should have snack-time before bedtime and they say prayers with us every time, and kiss us even when we've acted bad.