...Pea's........

[Tiger]

8)  . Peas . . .
 
Babs 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?" asked Mr. Miller.
 
"H'lo, Mr. Miller", Said the boy.  "Fine, thank ya.  Jus' admirin' them
peas.  Sure look good."
 
"They are good, Barry", replied Mr. Miller.  "How's your Ma?" 
 
"Fine.  Gittin' stronger alla' time," said the boy.
 
"Good.  Anything I can help you with?"  Mr. Miller asked.
 
"No, Sir.  Jus' admirin' them peas." replied the boy.
 
"Would you like to take some home?" asked Mr. Miller.
 
"No, Sir.  Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with." said the boy.
 
"Well", said Mr. Miller, "what have you to trade me for some of those
peas?"   
 
"All I got's my prize marble here," replied the young boy.
 
"Is that right?" said Mr. Miller.  "Let me see it." 
 
"Here 'tis.  She's a dandy," replied the boy.
 
"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?" asked Mr. Miller.
 
"Not zackley, but almost." said the boy.
 
"Tell you what", said Mr. Miller, "take this sack of peas home with you
and next trip this way let me look at that red marble." 
 
"Sure will." said the young boy. "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.  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 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.
 
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 those moments that take our breath away
 
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 and a safe ride....