Touch of the Master’s Hand by Myra Welsh June 30, 2008Posted by Giselle in Réflexions diverses.
Tags: carefree, Fun, insight, lazy, life, message, moment, Myra Welsh, nostalgic, Poem, school, story, Touch of the Master’s Hand, touching
Today I went to my old school. It was a nostalgic moment for me and I wished I could turn back the years to those splendid times when life was care-free and everything was a game.. when I had no responsibilities or burdens to carry.. no deep thoughts necessary and all the happiness that was possible ( which I realize now..) …
I came across this poem on our notice board.. It touched me really deep.. And I thought it might help someone out here in the blogging world if I shared it..
“Touch of the Master’s Hand” by Myra Welsh
” T’was battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it 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.
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 changed its worth?” Swift came the reply:
“The touch of a master’s hand.”
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.”
Is it not beautiful..?