Three red marbles
Buery Lowery was a deacon in our church when I was growing up. He ran the corner grocery store in our community, and was legendary among us children because his trading skills seemed less than adequate.
The penny candy behind the big glass display counter beckoned us with grape, peppermint, and chocolate flavors and fragrances. We stood in awe before this mountain of candy behind the glass wall of which Mr. Lowery was the gatekeeper.
Penny candy turned into three for a penny. (“It’s going stale, need to get rid of it) Nickel candy became two for a nickel, and if you didn’t have any money, Mr. Lowery would trade with the coin of the realm, which among us kids was marble.
We would roam from one vacant lot to another all summer, draw a circle, make an indention in the center, and play for keeps (if our mommas weren’t nearby).
Most of us had no money; our parents pinched pennies to keep us clothed and fed. Mr. Lowery would see a kid eyeing the candy counter from the back of the crowd; he would ask, “What have you got to trade?” “I’ve got a red marble,” the boy would say., “Well, I’ve been looking for a red marble to add to my collection; pick out the candy you want.” The kid would eagerly reach for the laughy taffy, pez refills, or the pixy sticks.
After completing the transaction, Mr. Lowery would return the red marble and say, “I just remembered, I have a red marble; just keep the candy, and when you get a blue marble, come see me.” Of course, when they brought in a blue one, “not quite the shade I’m looking for,” on and on, it would go all summer; everyone got candy whether they had money or not.
Many years later, Mr. Lowery died, his grocery store had long ago closed, and the funeral was held in the gym at the high school. I paid my respects and was standing with Mrs. Lowery, his widow. I told her how much Mr. Lowery meant to me growing up. Sister Lowery said, “You know we were never able to have children ourselves, and Buery looked at all of you as his own.”
Walking up to the casket, I noticed two well-dressed young men and the fashionably dressed young lady in front of me; each stopped briefly and touched Brother Buery’s hand; they came not only to honor him but to pay their debt. Brother Buery finally couldn’t change his mind now, there in the casket were three red marbles.
Bruce Walker sees humor and God’s design in life’s events. He also speaks regularly to various groups. You may contact Bruce at bruce@brucestoryteller.com or visit his website, BruceStoryteller.com.
