WoW: Red Marbles

“You cannot do a kindness too soon because you never know how soon it will be too late.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

 

The Red Marbles – A Parable

 

I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes, when 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’m 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 nearby.

“Hello, Barry, how are you today?”

“H’lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus’ admirin’ them peas. They sure looks good!”

“They are good, Barry. How’s your Ma?”

“Fine, sir. Gittin’ stronger alla’ time.”

“Glad to hear it. Anything I can help you with?”

“No, sir. Jus’ admirin’ them peas.”

“Would you like to take some home?” asked Mr. Miller.

“No, sir. Got nuthin’ to pay fer ’em with.”

“Well, what have you got to trade me for some of those peas?”

“All I got is 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. Do you have a red one like this at home?” the store owner asked.

“Not zackley—but almos’.”

“Tell you what, take this sack of peas home with you, and on your 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, 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 same Idaho community and, while there, I learned Mr. Miller had passed away. The mortuary was holding 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 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 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–the story 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 shiny red marbles.

Author Unknown

 

The Moral of the Story:

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 away.

Today, let’s create a simple ordinary miracle for someone else…Let’s do something to make their day easier and more fun, call someone who hasn’t heard from you in a long time, let’s give unconditionally to at least one person, let’s all love generously, be kind, be gentle, be understanding.

Let’s be who we are capable of being…today…tomorrow may just be too doggone late!

 

“You give but little when you give of your possessions.

It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.”

Kahlil Gibran

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WoW: The Dream Stealer

“There are some people who live in a dream world, and there are some who face reality; and then there are those who turn one into the other.”

Douglas Everett

 

The Dream Stealer

(Author Unknown)

 

I have a friend named Molly Roberts who owns a horse ranch in San Ysidro, California. She has let me use her house to put on fund-raising events to raise money for youth-at-risk programs and to help vets.

The last time I was there, she introduced me by saying, “I want to tell you why I let Jack use my house. It all goes back to a story about a young woman who was the daughter of an itinerant horse trainer who would go from stable to stable, race track to race track, farm to farm and ranch to ranch, training horses. As a result, the girl’s high school education was continually interrupted.

When she was a senior, she was asked to write a paper about what she wanted to be and do when she graduated. That night she wrote a seven-page paper describing her goal of someday owning a horse ranch. She wrote about this dream in great detail and she even drew a diagram of a 200-acre ranch, showing the location of all the buildings, the stables and the track. Then she drew a detailed floor plan for a 4,000-square-foot house that would sit on the 200-acre dream ranch.

She put a great deal of her heart into the project and the next day, she handed it to her teacher. Two days later, she received her paper back. On the front page was a large red F with a note that read, “See me after class.”

The girl with the dream went to see the teacher after class and asked, “Why did I receive an F?”

The teacher said, “This is an unrealistic dream for a young girl like you. First of all, you are a girl and have no money. You come from a low-income family. You have no resources. Owning a horse ranch requires a lot of money. You have to buy the land. You have to pay for the original breeding stock and later, you’ll have to pay large stud fees. There’s no way you could ever do it.” Then the teacher added, “If you will rewrite this paper with a more realistic goal, I will reconsider your grade.”

The girl went home and thought about it long and hard. She asked her mother what she should do. Her mother said, “My dear daughter, you have to make up your own mind on this. However, I think it is a very, very important decision for you to make.”

Finally, after sitting with it for a week, the girl turned in the same paper, making no changes at all. She stated, “You can keep the F and I’ll keep my dream.”

Molly then turned to the assembled group and said, “I tell you this story because you are sitting in my 4,000-square-foot house in the middle of my 200-acre horse ranch. I still have that school paper framed over the fireplace.”

She added, “The best part of the story is that two summers ago, that same school teacher brought 30 kids to camp out on my ranch for a week. When the teacher was leaving, he said, ‘Look, Molly, I can tell you this now. When I was your teacher, I now realize I was sometimes a dream stealer. During those years, I think I let my own judgments, fears, and limited thinking steel a lot of kids’ dreams. Fortunately, you had enough gumption not to give up on yours.’”

“Really great people make you feel that you, too, can become great.”

Mark Twain

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WoW: Trust

 “You may not always trust the person you love, but you will always love the person you trust.”

 

Trust

Just up the road from my home is a field, with two horses in it. From a distance, each horse looks like any other horse. But if you stop your car, or are walking by, you will notice something quite amazing.

Looking into the eyes of one horse will disclose that he is blind. His owner has chosen not to have him put down, but has made a good home for him. 

This alone is amazing.

If you stand nearby and listen, you will hear the sound of a bell. Looking around for the source of the sound, you will see it’s coming from the smaller horse in the field. Attached to the smaller horse’s halter is a little bell. It lets the blind friend know where the other horse is, so he can follow. 

As you stand and watch these two friends, you’ll see the horse with the bell is always checking on the blind horse, and the blind horse will listen for the bell, then slowly walk to where the other horse is, trusting that he will not be led astray. 

When the horse with the bell returns to the shelter of the barn each evening, it stops occasionally and looks back, making sure his blind friend isn’t too far behind to hear the bell.

Author Unknown

 

Like these two horses, sometimes we are the blind horse being guided by the little ringing bell of someone who cares and other times, we are the guiding horse, helping others find their way.

Good friends are like that.

You may not always see them, but you know they are always there…ready to lend a helping hand whenever it is needed. 

Be kinder than necessary— 
Everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

Live simply.
Love generously.
Care deeply.
Speak kindly…

And give unconditionally from your heart…

 

The way may not always be evident, but if you trust the love of a true friend, you will realize that we indeed do not reach our destination by sight alone.

 

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