(Background music for the narration: Mosie Lister's "Then I Met the Master")

It was battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
Hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
"What am I offered, good people", he cried,
"Who starts the bidding for me?"
"A dollar? only one? Who'll make it two?"
"Two dollars, and who'll make it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going, and gone, for three",
But, No,
From the room far back a grey haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening the loosened strings,
He played a melody as pure and sweet,
As the carol as the angels sing.

And the music stopped, and the auctioneer
In a voice that was quiet and low,
Said "Now what am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it up with a 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?"
And quick came the reply.
"The Touch of the Masters Hand."

And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred by sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the 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, he is going twice,
He is 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 Master's Hand.