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Nuggets of Wisdom

STORY OF A KIND DEED

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 o wn 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 remembere d 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.


When things in your lives seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day is not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 cups of coffee.

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began,
he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.
He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was. The professor then
picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar
lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He
then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of
course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar
was full. The students responded with an unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and
poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space
between the sand. The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize
that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important
things--your family, your children, your health, your friends and your
favorite passions---and if everything else was lost and only they remained,
your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter
like your job, your house and your car. The sand is everything else---the
small stuff.

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room
for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all
your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the
things that are important to you. "Pay attention to the things that are
critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get
medical checkups. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There
will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of
the golf balls first---the things that really matter. Set your priorities.
The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee
represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show
you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a
couple of cups of coffee with a friend."

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"Do not cry Pepito. Show these people that you are brave. It is a rare opportunity for me to die for our country. Not everybody is given that chance."

Saying attributed to Supreme Court Justice Jose Abad Santos of San Fernando, Pampanga when he was captured with his son and was interrogated by the Japanese in 1942.