[DeTomaso] Fwd: IT'S WHAT YOU SCATTER
Jack Donahue
demongusta at gmail.com
Tue May 15 15:18:42 EDT 2018
Just wanted to share something my 90 year old uncle from Ireland sent me.
>>
>>>> > IT'S
>>>> > WHAT YOU SCATTER
>>>> > 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. Hmm mmm, 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 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 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.
>>>> > 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 found right where you left
>>>> > them.
>>>> > Send this to the people you'll never
>>>> > forget. I just
>>>> > did...
>>>> >
>>>> > If you don't send it to anyone, it
>>>> > means you are in way too much of a hurry to even notice the
>>>> > ordinary miracles when they
>>>> > occur.
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> > IT'S NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT
>>>> > YOU SCATTER THAT TELLS WHAT KIND OF LIFE YOU HAVE
>>>> > LIVED!
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>>> >
>>
-------------- next part --------------
Just wanted to share something my 90 year old uncle from Ireland sent
me.
> IT'S
> WHAT YOU SCATTER
> 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. Hmm mmm, 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 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 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.
> 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 found right where you left
> them.
> Send this to the people you'll never
> forget. I just
> did...
>
> If you don't send it to anyone, it
> means you are in way too much of a hurry to even notice the
> ordinary miracles when they
> occur.
>
>
> IT'S NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT
> YOU SCATTER THAT TELLS WHAT KIND OF LIFE YOU HAVE
> LIVED!
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
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