"The Master's Hand"


Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer thought it scarcely worth
his while to auction off the old violin, but he held it up with a smile.
"What am I bid for the old violin?  Who'll start the bidding for me?  One
dollar. One.  Who'll make it two?  Two dollars.  Who'll make it three?"
Going for three ... but no, from a room far back, a gray-haired man came
forward and picked up the bow.

Wiping the dust from the old violin, and tightening up its strings, he
played a melody pure and sweet, as sweet as an angel sings.  The
auctioneer, with a voice that was quiet and low, said, "What am I bid for
the old violin?" as he held it up with the bow.  "One thousand, one,
who'll make it two?  Two thousand, who'll make it three?  Three thousand
once, three thousand twice, going and gone" said he.  The people cheered,
but some of them cried, "We don't quite understand what changed its
worth."  Quick came the reply, "The touch of the Master's hand."

Many a man, with life out of tune, battered and torn by sin, is auctioned
off to a thoughtless crowd, much like that old violin.  A mess of pottage,
a glass of wine, a game, and he travels on.  He's going once, he's going
twice, he's going ... he's almost gone.  Then the Master comes, and the
thoughtless crowd can never quite understand the worth of a soul and the
miracle that's wrought by the touch of the Master's hand.

- Unknown