If You Only Would

There’s so much you could do if you only would.
Evil to turn into channels of good;
Lives to brighten and hearts to be warmed
Neighborhood services to be performed.

Old folks to visit, and young folks to guide;
Somebody somewhere for whom to provide.
Wide is the field if you’re willing to do
Something for others less favored than you.

Lamps of affection to trim and relight.
Wherever you look there are wrongs to put right.
People and problems to be understood.
There is so much you could do – if you only would.

Results or Roses

The man who wants a garden fair,
Or small or very big,
With flowers growing here and there,
Must bend his back and dig.

The things are mighty few on earth
That wishes can attain.
Whate'er we want of any worth
We've got to work to gain.

It matters not what goal you seek
Its secret here reposes:
You've got to dig from week to week
To get Results or Roses.

Edger A. Guest

The Touch of the Master's Hand

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 bid, good people", he cried,
"Who starts the bidding for me?"
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
"Two dollars, who makes 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 up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it aloft with its' bow.

"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?"
"Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
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, 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 Masters' Hand.

Myra Brooks Welch

No Word From You

Ain’t you got no paper friend?

Ain’t you got no pen?
Ain’t you got no envelope
To put the letter in?

Is you got the writers cramp?
Or is you broke your arm?
Is you got the rheumatis
From staying out so long?

Ain’t ya got no better thoughts
About me feelin blue?
Don’t you know it’s been ages
Since I heard from you?

Is you lost my address
And lost my letter too?
Don’t you know I’m bout to die
For lack for word form you?

Smile

The thing that goes the farthest

Towards making life worthwhile

That costs the least and does the most

Is just a pleasant smile.

The smile that bubbles from a heart

That loves its fellow men

Will drive away the cloud of gloom

And coax the sun again.

It’s full of warmth and goodness too

With manly kindness bent

Its worth a million dollars

And it doesn’t cost a cent.

One Solitary Life

He was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant. He grew up in another village, where he worked in a carpenter shop until he was 30. Then, for three years, he was an itinerant preacher.

He never wrote a book. He never held an office. He never had a family or owned a home. He didn't go to college. He never lived in a big city. He never traveled 200 miles from the place where he was born. He did none of the things that usually accompany greatness. He had no credentials but himself.

He was only 33 when the tide of public opinion turned against him. His friends ran away. One of them denied him. He was turned over to his enemies and went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed to a cross between two thieves. While he was dying, his executioners gambled for his garments, the only property he had on earth. When he was dead, he was laid in a borrowed grave, through the pity of a friend.

Twenty centuries have come and gone, and today he is the central figure of the human race. I am well within the mark when I say that all the armies that ever marched, all the navies that ever sailed, all the parliaments that ever sat, all the kings that ever reigned--put together--have not affected the life of man on this earth as much as that one, solitary life.*

*Attributed to James Allen Francis.

Love

A man without love,
Is a
Day without hope,
Is a
Song without music,
Is a
Poem without words.

By Gordon Parks

I love my family. We're truly blessed!
Dale Leifson

Availability, Dependability, and Capability

The Lord does not ask about our ability or inability,
But only about our availability.
If we prove our dependability,
The Lord takes care of our capability.

Neil A. Maxwell

The Second Chance

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We may not have the means at hand

To change a circumstance.

But we may gain, to our relief,

A welcome second chance.

A chance to prove that we will try,

With all our might and mind,

To change our way, to right some wrong,

And pull our weight again.

So let us thank the generous folk

Who overlook our lapse,

And put their trust in our success,

Where once we failed, perhaps.

The second chance can bring results,

The first one to out weigh

For in the mean time we have learned

A little more each day.

By Anna Hayward

Friends

Three friends have I
He who loves me
He who hates me
And he who is indifferent toward me

He who love me teaches me tenderness
He who hates me teaches me patience
He who is indifferent toward me
Teaches me self-reliance.

Smile

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A smile is such a funny thing;

It wrinkles up your face,

And then its gone you’ll never find

Its secret hiding place.

But, far more wonderful it is

To see what smiles can do;

You smile at one, he smiles at you,

And so one smile makes two.

I Love You

I love you

Not only for what you are,

But for what I am

When I’m with you.

I love you

Not only for what

You have made of yourself

But for what you have helped me to become.

I love you

For the part of me

That only you

Can bring out in me.

I love you

For passing over all of my

Foolish and weak treats

That you can’t help but see.

I love you

For drawing out into the light

The beauty that no one else had

Looked quite far enough to find.

I love you!

Dale Leifson