As I continue to work on “Make It Happen” , I seem to have a lot of energy and passion for life, which probably means I am on the right track!
This morning I naturally woke up very early and it was a beautifully clear and sunny start to the day. Even the birds were in full song. It was a great way to start the day listening to bird song and I spent the early morning hours in Regents Park.
If you are on Facebook, you can even see how Regents Park looked very early this morning.
So how can you get more time in your life? Right now, whilst the weather is so sunny and warm, it just seems such a waste to to spend more time sleeping than necessary. I really do believe that we can all get by with much less sleep than we currently do.
A good friend manages on 4 hours sleep every night and seems to have more energy and drive than most people around him. Or perhaps because he is so driven he doesn’t need much sleep.
I too would love to train my body and mind to thrive on less sleep and I shall be writing more on this in the future. But for now, do check out my 9 tips to create an extra hour everyday.
In the meantime, I would like to share an inspirational story sent to me as one of those chain emails which ask you to forward and share with 10 friends in order for one to be blessed with luck, money etc.
Well, I am sharing it here with many more people than 10 and now look forward to even more blessings coming my way!
I usually just delete such emails but this one particularly grabbed me. It is another lesson for all of us to be aware of just what’s important in our lives – and what makes our life rich. The story is narrated in first person:-
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 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 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 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 exactly 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 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.
I guess the moral of this story is that we will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.
As someone said, life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take away our breath.
I started today in nature and I had numerous moments which took my breathe away. How can YOU create in your day such moments and miracles?
And slow down and literally smell the flowers – after all, it’s not what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived!
(To give proper and worthy credit, this story is titled “Three Marbles” and was written by W. E. Petersen, and published in the October, 1975 Ensign magazine)