Its July birthday time again!
It is like yesterday that I received word that I, a single woman, would be allowed to adopt a baby! I was the eighth woman in Oregon allowed to adopt. At that time, only two states allowed single adoptions.
I am blessed! He has always been my special gift from God. Now 44, he is a Daddy, husband, pastor and beautiful violinist!
Papers
SU Pacific Point
SU Designer Papers
Stamp is from Penny Black
(I used this stamp before and posted it, but someone else asked me for the card and I never got it to Jonathan...so this year, same stamp, but different card.)
Buttons from Craft Warehouse
If you are asking why I used mustard buttons, I'm asking the same thing, but I wanted a contrast and thought it tied in with the browns of the violin!
It is like yesterday that I received word that I, a single woman, would be allowed to adopt a baby! I was the eighth woman in Oregon allowed to adopt. At that time, only two states allowed single adoptions.
I am blessed! He has always been my special gift from God. Now 44, he is a Daddy, husband, pastor and beautiful violinist!
Papers
SU Pacific Point
SU Designer Papers
Stamp is from Penny Black
(I used this stamp before and posted it, but someone else asked me for the card and I never got it to Jonathan...so this year, same stamp, but different card.)
Buttons from Craft Warehouse
If you are asking why I used mustard buttons, I'm asking the same thing, but I wanted a contrast and thought it tied in with the browns of the violin!
Inside of card
Stickers on the inside are from my sticker stash--didn't quite know what to do with the inside.
The corner is from a set of four dies made for the cuttlebug.
The poem is "The Touch of the Master's Hand".
The corner is from a set of four dies made for the cuttlebug.
The poem is "The Touch of the Master's Hand".
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
"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
