Searching through my old files I came across this beautiful material I featured many years ago. And after all these years, I still find this poem magnificent and inspiring.
I love poetry. I guess there is still a poet inside me that got lost in the clutter because of my involvement in business. But something triggered my desire to look for this poem.
My father passed a couple of years ago and August is his birth month. As a boy we did not have much, but he treasured a violin he kept for many years. He must have scraped up a lot of cash to buy the instrument. And as I reminisced about it, this lovely poem came to mind, which got me searching through my files and which I now share with you.
The Old Violin written by Myra Brooks Welch.
T’was battered and scarred and the auctioneer thought it scarcely worth his while to waste such 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-bearded 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 caroling angel sings.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer with a voice that was quiet and low, said;
“What am I bid for this 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 audience cheered, but some of them cried, “We just don’t understand.
What changed its worth?” Swift came the reply: “The touch of the masters hand.”
And many a man with life out of tune, all battered with bourbon and gin,
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd, much like that old violin.
A “mess of pottage,” a glass of wine; a game - and he travels on. “He is 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 is wrought by the Touch of the Masters Hand.
I’ve seen this happen. Disgruntled business people, drowning in a sea of wasteful living, expensive vices and hard drinks. Hardened criminals on death row, others with life imprisonments yet softened with the touch of the Master’s hands.
There is a life-changing power of putting one’s trust and faith in the Master. That which once was hopeless and helpless in the eyes of people becomes new and the change is visible even from the outside.
Some called it a “religious experience…” Others mock and say, “So this guy has found Jesus…” And all the friends who are themselves trapped in a meaningless existence joined in and laugh.
Many would laugh and scorn, others would simply dismiss it as unimportant, but the one thing they could not deny is that the transformation is genuine and the life is changing for the better.
Oswald Chambers says: “In the natural world it is impossible to be made all over again, but in the spiritual world it is exactly what Jesus Christ makes possible.” And he was referring to the Master.
I have seen this happen to businessmen, professionals, leaders and even to simple folks from all walks of life. And over time this is what I have observed.
The changed life is not just a process of life improvement or behavior modification, it is a genuine historical spiritual transformation from an old creaky useless piece of instrument to one that plays beautiful music and has become an inspiration and a blessing to many.
I really believe in this and perhaps you do not, but that’s okay. But if you have known me some time ago, especially in my youth, then you would also have to accept the fact that I used to be an old rusty violin myself, totally useless and merely occupying space until that day came when the Master put his hand on me. And then things have never been the same!
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