I heard this poem many years ago. Maybe you have too. It is one 
of the greats. As a matter of fact, in the last three weeks, two different people sent it to me in an email.
It reminds me, in a way, of a line from one of my favorite movies. In “Seabiscuit” Tom Smith looks at Charles Howard, as they were sitting around the camp fire, and says, “You don’t throw away a whole life just because it’s banged up a little.” I thought of this poem last week when I saw the movie, “The Blind Side.”
Are You Losing Hope?
Everyone needs to be encouraged. People need hope. They need know someone believes in them.
It’s amazing how a person’s life changes when they find out that God really does love them; when they realize that He is not condemning them, but rather, He is encouraging them; and, when they discover that God really does believe in them.
The more you see just how much God loves you, the easier it becomes to have confidence, trust, and hope in Him.
The Touch of the Master’s Hand
“Twas battered and scared, 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 bidding for me?
A dollar, a dollar – now who”ll make it 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 strings,
He played a melody,pure and sweet,
As sweet as an 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 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?” The man replied:
“The touch of the masters hand.”
And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and torn with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd.
Much like the old violin.
A “mess of pottage,” a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on,
He’s going once, and 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.
Myra B. Welch
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