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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 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 town, 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 had nice haircuts, 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 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 those boys. 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.
We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. 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.
Never be in way too much of a hurry to even notice the ordinary miracles when they occur.
Credit goes to original owner
... See MoreSee Less

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 couldnt help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me. Hello Barry, how are you today? Hlo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus admirin them peas. They sure look good. They are good, Barry. Hows 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 gots my prize marble here. Is that right? Let me see it said Miller. Here tis. Shes 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 town, 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 doesnt 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 had nice haircuts, wore dark suits and white shirts... all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husbands 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 husbands 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 those boys. 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. Weve 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. We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles. A fresh pot of coffee you didnt 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. Never be in way too much of a hurry to even notice the ordinary miracles when they occur. Credit goes to original owner

We have a lot of beautiful flowers around the grounds right now - and two of the flower gardens are specifically for our visitors to use and enjoy. We offer these to families who may want to put fresh flowers in their loved one’s vase at the grave. They are just about in full bloom right now. One is located in our upper gardens and the other in our lower gardens. Please stop in the office or call us and we can point you in the right direction. While they are great to look at, we also want to make sure families know they can pick from them! ... See MoreSee Less

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Thank you!

That is really nice of you to do that!!!

Beautiful

Very pretty! And I wasn’t aware of the, ‘ok to pick’ option. So nice! T Y

Sheena Roberts

So beautiful

I never remember and buy flowers every week

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This past weekend Good Grief held another one of their summer monthly picnics in the barn. They had a great turnout and enjoyed lunch together, along with bingo and a raffle. Please check out their FB group to see all the events they have to offer! WCMP Good Grief Group: www.facebook.com/groups/2220252791497317/ ... See MoreSee Less

This past weekend Good Grief held another one of their summer monthly picnics in the barn. They had a great turnout and enjoyed lunch together, along with bingo and a raffle. Please check out their FB group to see all the events they have to offer! WCMP Good Grief Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/2220252791497317/

2023 Park Office Hours
We have made the decision to modify our office hours due to staffing. Starting this weekend, our office will be closed until further notice on Sundays. As always, the grounds will remain open at all times, and visitors are welcome any day of the year. If you need assistance with grave locations during non-office hours, please visit our website where you can search by name and access garden maps: www.wcmp.org/burials/ A porta potty is located next to the office for visitors who need a restroom. Our Monday-Saturday office hours will remain the same and our answering service is available to assist families during other times. Our goal is to provide personalized care for each family, and we will continue to help families with their needs. Please contact us with any questions.
... See MoreSee Less

2023 Park Office Hours We have made the decision to modify our office hours due to staffing. Starting this weekend, our office will be closed until further notice on Sundays. As always, the grounds will remain open at all times, and visitors are welcome any day of the year. If you need assistance with grave locations during non-office hours, please visit our website where you can search by name and access garden maps: https://www.wcmp.org/burials/ A porta potty is located next to the office for visitors who need a restroom. Our Monday-Saturday office hours will remain the same and our answering service is available to assist families during other times. Our goal is to provide personalized care for each family, and we will continue to help families with their needs. Please contact us with any questions.
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RUSSELL E VICKSTROM JR

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It is with great sadness that we share David Edward Pottle, Sr. passed away on Sunday, August 27, 2023 at the age of 64. David was born in Worcester, ...

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