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When speaking to groups which include those incarcerated, rehabilitation clients, DWI offenders, and at industrial safety meetings, I sometimes close using the following poem, written by Myra Brooks Welch.

The touch of the Master’s hand

‘Twas battered and scarred and the auctioneer thought it scarcely worth his while

To waste much time on the old violin, but he 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 up 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.”

Like the old violin, many of us are battered and scarred with sin. I suggest you allow the Master (God) to come in, dust you off, tighten your walk in life, and direct you to become the person you were created to be.

If you have any questions, or comments, please write to Harold Keller at Get High on Life, P.O. Drawer U, Reserve, LA 70084 or call (985) 652-8477.