“The Touch Of The Master’s Hand”
Categories: Church of Christ Bulletin ArticlesThe following is a poem written in 1921 by Myra Brooks Welch (scroll down page). This lady reminds me of my Aunt Lee, who spent 67 years in a wheelchair because of crippling rheumatoid arthritis.
Folks, when we’re down and out, thinking that life is no longer worth living, please think of the pain these two grand ladies must have endured, their courage in seeing each day as a gift from God, and then be encouraged by this majestic poem of God’s care, and the value He places on each one of us (cf. 1 Peter 5:7; Matthew 6:25-30; Matthew 16:25-26).
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“It was battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.
“What am I bid, good people”, he cried,
“Who starts the bidding for me?”
“One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?”
“Two dollars, who makes it three?”
“Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,”
But, No,
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.
The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said “What now am I bid for this old violin?”
As he held it aloft with its’ bow.
“One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?”
“Two thousand, Who makes it three?”
“Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone”, said he.
The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
“We just don’t understand.”
“What changed its’ worth?”
Swift came the reply.
“The Touch of the Master’s Hand.”
And many a man with life out of tune,
All battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd,
Much like that old violin
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is 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 is wrought
By “The Touch of the Master’s Hand.”