It's probably fake but I'm posting it anyway!!

[mike woolf]

Pea story

Jim Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. 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 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, 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 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.

Send this to the people you'll never forget. If you don't send it to
anyone, it means you are in too much of a hurry.

[robert jordan]

you expect us to read all of that!!

[mike woolf]

you expect us to read all of that!!

Not if you don't want to ...

[RIVERRUMMER 70]

As Much As I Feel Sometimes This World Is Being Lost To Greed And Power, That Really Warmed My Heart, As Broken And Jaded As It May Be!

Thank You !

[stokernick]

true or false,it's a great story and one all should relate to.Thanks,Mike!

[robert jordan]

it made me stop and think just how fast life goes by!!

[Ted Stryker]

It's a great story, and be it true or false I'm sure there is a somewhere, person or thing that is very comparable... If you tell a cool story about a boat race but you get the hull colors and make incorrect, does that make it false for all intents and purposes... I like the story, and I heard something a long time ago... You can tell alot about someone by who shows up at their Funeral...

[Lockjaw]

That should still remind us all to be better people. Its so hard when I see panhandlers all the time with rockports and nice clothes.

Plus, if they don't have any money, where did they get the marker to make their sign?

[mike woolf]

That should still remind us all to be better people. Its so hard when I see panhandlers all the time with rockports and nice clothes.

Plus, if they don't have any money, where did they get the marker to make their sign?

You are right ...I used to run a recycling center it was located in a shopping center on a major road in Kissimmee and of course there were alot of homeless people there some were just down on there luck others that was what they wanted .. But there was guy who would show up on the corner at a certain time of day thur,fri,sat,and sunday he would pan handle for 4 or 5 hours and then he would disapear ..one day I decided to follow him after he finished pan handleing he went across the street to the gas station bought a soda walked about to blocks to a storage place and got into a lincoln continetal later I found he had a nice house in St cloud he made good money doing that ...some of the guys only panhandled when they needed money for beer becouse they could get food easy..

[vector mike]

Great story Mike. It seems to find that soft spot even in the toughest of us.