Gosh, I've been pretty soppy these days..any wee bit emo stories i came across, i start to tear...yikes, getting bit sensitive..lol..am wondering what happends when my menopause arrives in future..i'll be far super duper emo..hope not.. *fingers crosssed*
Neway, ran across this *points below* that was posted in friendster by Audrey, no, not my mom..Audrey Malenee from school..yes, the lil(not so now) red ridding hood girl in primary school..hehehe..it's so touching..bless the souls that are like Mr. Miller..it inspires people to help each other esp the less fortunate ones..ok, enough of what I think, here's the story;
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 to take some home?"
asked Mr. Miller.
"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. Do you have a red one like
this at home?" the store owner 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 toColorado, 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 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 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 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.
Now, you noe what i meant, it's touching.. *happy sigh*
Thanks God, for sending his troops to set more examples for us..ain't we lucky..you see, life is not alwayz bad, it's actually how you set your perspective on it..fine,shit do happends but never the less, after cleaning it you are cleaner..ok la, my explanation sucks but at least you get my point.. =p
My main point is that life is indeed beautiful, if you could just stop by and smell the roses..
*inhales slowly feeling thankful*
ps: mingy, *points at the colour of the fonts* it's green again..weee~!
at 'Vivien Tsai's Warddrobe'
at 'Vivien Tsai's Warddrobe' also
at 'bacis"
Nadia (Spyke's niece)
when uncle spyke is around..
BBQ chefs
BBQ troope
BananaLeafRice and Hannwei
Minxi tryin to smell his armpit??
sucky fries in McD sekyen14
i dun eat icecream like tat..
our feet..
sexy legs with white heels
preety preeeety
lenard bugger..xoxo
drawn on
Lawrence Lye Chao Ping
Mr.SS..lol..
Ms. Sweetie
guess who is this..
Marble Brownie Cheese Cake
