"The Touch of the Master's Hand"
[by: Myra Brooks Welch]

4-28-99 Story of the Week Seeds from Church Within #29

Greetings my Dearest Sisters and Brothers, and welcome again to The
Church Within Story of the Week ["SOW Seeds]

The first time I experienced this story I was a young boy. I'm not exactly sure, but I believe I heard it, and watched it being acted out by Red Skelton on his weekly TV show. I remember, whenever and wherever it was, that it touched my young Soul very Deeply... and that it made me cry. Not out of pain or sorrow mind you, I cried for Joy. Joy that what appeared to be battered, uncared for, neglected, was in fact filled with the potential for great Beauty and Goodness. Today it is how I see People... and it Still makes me cry.

This week's SOW Seeds - #29 , contributed by: Kavita P Pai

Thanks for the memories dear friend...

Story of the Week

"The Touch of the Master's Hand"
[by: Myra Brooks Welch]

Twas battered and scarred, and the old 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 gray-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 bidden for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow.
"A thousand! 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 it's worth." Swift came the reply:
"The touch of the master's hand."

And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sun,
Is auctioned cheep to the thoughtless crowd,
Much like this old violin.
A "mess of pottage," a glass of wine;
A game; and he travels on.
He is "going" once, "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.

The Prayer
Dear God,        
        I pray that You open the eyes of all Your children. Not the eyes of ego dear Lord, which see not beyond the surface, but the Eyes of the Soul which have the ability to look within and perceive the Truth, Beauty, Goodness and Love which are Your handiwork.
You ALL are Within the Infinitely Loving Embrace of our Universal

The Creator's Eternal Love, through me, to all of You,
Pastor Daniel

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