| THE TOUCH OF THE MASTER'S HAND | |
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'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer Thought it was scarcely worth his while To waste much time on the old violin But held it up with a smile. "What am I bidden, good folks," he cried, "Who'll start the bidding for me? "A dollar, a dollar," then, two! Only two? "Two dollars,and who'll make it three?" "Three dollars, once, three dollars, twice; Going for three..." But no, From the room, far back, a grey-haired man Came forward and picked up the bow; Then, wiping the dust from the old violin, And tightening the loose strings, He played a melody pure and sweet As a caroling angel sings. |
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The music ceased, and the auctioneer, With a voice that was quiet and low, Said:"What am I bid for the old violin?" And he held it up with the bow. "A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two? "Two thousand! And who'll make it three?" Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice; And going and gone," said he. The people cheered, but some of them cried, "We do not quite understand What changes its worth?" Swift came the reply: "The touch of the master's hand." |
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And many a man with life out of tune, And battered and scarred with sin, Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd, Much like the old violin. A "mess of potage," a glass of wine; A game--and he travels on. He is "going" once, and "going" twice, He's "going" and almost "gone." But the Master comes and the foolish crowd Never can quite understand The worth of a soul and the change that's wrought By the touch of the Master's hand. Myra B. Welch |
A Gift From My Friend, Annita |
Once upon a mountain top, three little trees stood and
dreamed of what they wanted to become when they grew up.
The first little tree looked up at the stars and said: I want to
hold treasure. I want to be covered with gold and filled
with precious stones. I'll be the most beautiful treasure chest
in the world!
The second little tree looked out at the small stream trickling by
on it's way to the ocean. I want to be traveling mighty waters
and carrying powerful kings. I'll be the strongest ship in the word!"
The third little tree looked down into the valley below where busy
men and women worked in a busy town. I don't want to leave the
mountain top at all. I want to grow so tall that when people stop to
look at me, they'll raise their eyes to heaven and think of God.
I will be the tallest tree in the world.
Years passed. The rain came, the sun shone, and the little trees grew tall. One day three woodcutters climbed the mountain.
The first woodcutter looked at the first tree and said, This tree is
beautiful. It is perfect for me. With a swoop of his shining axe,
the first tree fell.
Now I shall be made into a beautiful chest, I shall hold
wonderful treasure! The first tree said.
The second woodcutter looked at the second tree and said,
This tree is strong. It is perfect for me. With a swoop of
his shining axe the second tree fell.
Now I shall sail mighty waters! thought the second tree.
I shall be a strong ship for mighty kings!
The third tree felt her heart sink when the last woodcutter looked
her way. She stood straight and tall and pointed bravely to
heaven.But the woodcutter never even looked up. Any kind
of tree will do for me. He muttered. With a swoop of his
shining axe, third tree fell.
The first tree rejoiced when the woodcutter brought her to a
carpenter's shop. But the carpenter fashioned the tree into a
feedbox for animals.
The once beautiful tree was not covered with gold, nor with
treasure. She was coated with saw dust and filled with hay for
hungry farm animals.
The second tree smiled when the woodcutter took her to
shipyard, but no mighty sailing ship was made that day.
Instead the once strong tree was hammered and sawed into a simple
fishing boat. She was too small and too weak to sail to an ocean,
or even a river; instead she was taken to a little lake.
The third tree was confused when the woodcutter cut her into
strong beams and left her in a lumberyard.
What happened? The once tall tree wondered. All I ever
wanted was to stay on the mountain top and point to God...
Many many days and nights passed. The three trees nearly
forgot their dreams.
But one night, golden starlight poured over the first tree as
a young woman placed her newborn baby in the feedbox.
I wish I could make a cradle for him, her husband whispered.
The mother squeezed his hand and smiled as the starlight
shone on the smooth and sturdy wood. This manager is
beautiful, she said.
And suddenly the first tree knew he was holding the greatest
treasure in the world.
One evening a tired traveler and his friends crowded into the
old fishing boat. The traveler fell asleep as the second tree
quietly sailed out into the lake .
Soon a thundering and thrashing storm arose. The little tree
shuddered. She knew she did not have the strength to carry
so many passengers safely through with the wind and the rain.
The tired man awakened. He stood up, stretched out his hand,
and said, Peace. The storm stopped as quickly as it had begun.
And suddenly the second tree knew he was carrying the King of
Heaven and Earth.
One Friday morning, the third tree was startled when her beams
were yanked from the forgotten woodpile. She flinched as
she was carried through an angry jeering crowd. She shuddered
when soldiers nailed a man's hands to her.
She felt ugly and harsh and cruel.
But on Sunday morning, when the sun rose and the earth
trembled with joy beneath her, the third tree knew that
God's love had changed everything.
It had made the third tree strong.
And every time people thought of the third tree, they would
think of God.
That was better than being the tallest tree in the world.
So next time you feel down because you didn't get what you
wanted, just sit tight and be happy because God is thinking of
something better to give you. THREE TREES
Sent in from a friend named Dennis Cassidy
