the touch of the master's hand



We recently took a trip to Ohio to visit family.  My grandmother doesn't always know your name and gets confused easily about her current circumstances.  But her love for God and for people still is so strong.

My family frequently moved due to the military lifestyle.  And each time we moved, my sister and I would go to live with my grandparents for the summer.  It was my favorite place to be.  My grandmother had a way of making me feel important and loved.  I have learned as an adult that it wasn't special just for me... she had that effect on everyone.

During our visit, she asked Kody to sit on her lap.  He is way past the age of lap sitting but his tender heart understood the importance.  He sat with her for a long time making sure to put all his weight on his leg touching the floor so he wouldn't hurt her frail body.  A time or two he tried to stand up and my grandmother's grip tightened on him as she tried to make sure this "baby" on her lap did not fall.  Kody gave me his beautiful smile and agreed to stay on her lap awhile longer.  Precious moments with the people I love.

My grandmother was an excellent speaker.  She often would recite the poem of "The Touch of the Master's Hand" for different events... it was her favorite poem.  And it is how she lived her life.  Pouring her love into each person she met believing that the touch of God brings beauty and significance.  I am so blessed to be her granddaughter.



'Twas 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 Masters Hand."
"And many a man with life out of tune
All battered and bruised with hardship
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 Masters' Hand.
- by Myra Brooks Welch

Popular posts from this blog

when bones disappear

in the course of time

when you don't feel compassion