The Marble Roller

It sits on a deep windowsill in my kitchen.
A windowsill that is more like a window seat.
It is a conversation piece.
It is the toy that is played with by every child that comes to visit.

It is a marble roller.
The story of its acquisition is an interesting one.

Loving country things as much as I do, it was bound to end up in my home.
Ours in the home with an actual yoke for oxen hanging on the wall of our family room.
Ours is the home with the quilts that hang from racks that my husband made for me.
Ours is the home with the books in every room and with old things that tell a story.

I don’t remember how I happened to discover my first marble roller.
The concept of that particular toy intrigued me.
Place a regular marble at the top and watch it roll through the narrow channels.
Watch the marble roll down and down to the bottom.

It is mesmerizing.
Though it can be a bit loud.
Especially when you have a very active toddler who plays with six marbles at a time.
The speed and sound of the marbles will keep them busy for quite a while.

I searched local antique stores with no success.
If I ever happened to find a marble roller, it was very small and quite expensive.
I was in no rush.
The searching is almost better than the conquest.

I had almost given up hope.
I placed the desire for the marble roller on the back burner of my brain.
Then one day, it happened.
One day when I wasn’t even looking, I found it.

It was the day I met Rufus.
Someone suggested I go to his vegetable stand.
The vegetable stand that was on his property.
His property was near my favorite, spirit-rejuvenating place.

I followed the directions, which led me to a cute little house.
Behind and all around the house were cornfields.
The vegetable stand contained fresh, delectable fruits and vegetables.
I knew I would be leaving with my arms full of healthy produce.

To the right of the house was another building.
Outside of that building, there were all sorts of wooden pieces.
Actual doors, with the keyhole still visible, that became the back of a deacon’s bench.
Garden benches made from old wooden fences.

Birdhouses, rustic ladders, and rusty metal garden gates.
All of these things I have purchased from Rufus at one time or another.
On one of my visits, I met his wife.
This tiny Mennonite woman literally came up to my elbow.

We became quick friends.
On that day, I had my youngest daughter with me, who was still quite young.
She was intrigued with their little dog and proceeded to play with him while we talked.
I learned that Rufus and his wife had thirteen children.

I looked at his wife and could not imagine her tiny frame delivering thirteen children.
But she had delivered them and many of their sons also helped on the farm.
My 5’10” frame towered over her.
I was taller than Rufus as well.

I happened to ask Rufus one day about a marble roller.
I wondered if he ever saw one in his travels around the area.
His wife answered, Show her the one you made for the children.
He smiled with a surprised look as if he never considered that option.

He went into the house and brought out exactly what I had been looking for.
A large marble roller that was painted in the cranberry red color I desired.
That’s it! I exclaimed.
Could you make one for me, just like that?

This quiet-mannered man said, I could do that, with a crooked smile on his lips.
We never discussed price.
We never discussed details.
He could make a marble roller and I was thrilled.

He told me when to come back and pick it up.
I went back on the very day.
He saw me pull up in my car.
He went into the house and brought out the most perfect marble roller I had ever seen.

I smiled from ear to ear.
Thank you, Rufus. This is simply wonderful.
He pulled out an old marble from his pocket.
He placed the marble roller on the ground and let the marble travel down to the bottom.

He seemed pleased that the marble rolled all the way down.
He seemed pleased that he designed it with all the correct angles.
I made it out of tobacco lath, he said proudly.
He helped me put the marble roller into my car.

What do I owe you, Rufus?
The answer to that question seemed to be an afterthought.
He said an amount, which was embarrassingly small.
Are you sure, Rufus? You made this especially for me.

My pleasure, he said and he meant it.

He has filled them with skill to do all kinds of work as craftsmen, designers, embroiderers in blue, purple and scarlet yarn and fine linen, and weavers – all of them master craftsmen and designers. (Exodus 35:35)

I looked over at the house and his wife was waving in the doorway.
I left Rufus’ farm with my marble roller and an armful of fresh fruits and vegetables.
I left Rufus’ farm with my heart a bit lighter.
I waved as I drove away.

There are still master craftsmen in the world.
Craftsmen who use their gifts to bless others and to give God glory.
Telling God’s story through the work of their hands.
Blessing others and honoring Him one project at a time.

Think of all the children that have enjoyed the work of Rufus’ hands.
Thank you, Rufus.

 

2 responses to “The Marble Roller”

1. Wonderful story! I can connect with Rufus! How wonderful to use the talents God has given us, as you do every day. I look forward to your daily stories, which always lead me to God and His Word.

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   • Thank you for your sweet words, Sue.
     All to God’s glory…always!
     Gina

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