“The Touch of the Master’s Hand”

My husband and I have been spending all of our time planning and starting a Non-profit and I have found it impossible to fit in time to write. However, I ran across this the other day and it touched my heart so I am sharing it with you. I hope you all are doing well and that God is blessing you richly in your life.

“The Touch of the Master’s Hand”

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 grey-haired 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 low,

Said, “What no 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,” he said.

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 with bourbon and gin,

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.

by Myra Brooks Welch


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