‘Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer thought it scarcely worth his   while To waste his time on the old violin, But he held it up with a smile. "What am  I bid, good friends?" He cried. "Who’ll start the bidding for me? One  dollar! Only one? And who will make it two? Two dollars, once. And Three!  Three dollars, once. And three dollars, twice. And going, and going," but  no... From the back of the room a gray-haired man came forward and picked up  the bow. And wiping the dust from the old violin, And tightening the loose   strings, He played a melody pure and sweet as caroling angels sing. The music   ceased, and the auctioneer with a voice that was quiet and low, Said, "What   am I bid for the old violin?" As he held up the bow. "One thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two. Two thousand dollars, and  three! Three thousand, once. And three thousand, twice. And going, and going, and  gone!" said he. The people cheered, but some of them cried, "We don’t quite   understand

What changed its worth." Swift came the reply. "’Twas the touch of the   master’s hand." And many a man with life out of tune and battered and scarred with sin, Is  auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd, much like this old violin. A mess  of pottage, a glass of wine. A game and he travels on. He’s going once, and  going twice. And going, and almost gone. But the Master comes, and the  thoughtless crowd never can quite understand The worth of a soul, and the   change that is wrought by the touch of the Master’s hand.

Myra Brooks Welch

14 Day Walk With Christ

Activities & Thoughts