The Masters Touch

Gardening for me is to plant, water and wait. I am not very knowledgeable nor keen to replant, prune or do any active engagement. The result, wild growth of plants that grow on their own, premature death or stunting of others, plants that could have had much better growth. I am okay with this since gardening is not a passion but a time to dissociate from other engagements for short period of time during busy hours.

But I learnt something yesterday. The touch that transforms! We have close family staying with us for a few days. Yesterday I went out for work and when I returned, the two small gardens inside the house had been transformed. I thought there was a beauty in the wild growth of yesterday, but the pruned, replanted, repotted, and repositioned was a different site to behold and enjoy.

 

The handiwork of two close relatives, one a retired agricultural technocrat, who has a breathtaking garden in her house and a senior lady, who has spent all her life caring for plants. This combination was phenomenal. They pruned, dug up, replanted, and repotted without mercy. Because as masters of this trade, they saw what I could not see or imagine! The Masters Touch, who saw a potential future beauty amid this jungle of mine. For that to happen, some hard painful work had to be done!

I was reminded of this song when I saw this transformation. “The Touch of the Masters Hand”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x6fekfvnLJM

 

The lyrics go like this.

 

Well it was battered and scared,
And the auctioneer felt it was hardly worth his while,
To waste much time on the old violin but he held it up with a smile,
Well it sure ain't much but its all we got left I guess we aught to sell it to,

Oh, now who'll start the bid on this old violin?
Just one more and we'll be through.

And then he cried one give me one dollar,
Who'll make it two only two dollars who'll make it three,
Three dollars twice now that's a good price,
Now who's gonna bid for me?
Raise up your hand now don't wait any longer the auctions about to end,
Who's got four Just one dollar more to bid on this old violin?

 

Well, the air was hot, and the people stood around as the sun was setting low,
From the back of the crowd a gray-haired man,
Came forward and picked up the bow,
He wiped the dust from the old violin then he tightened up the strings,
Then he played out a melody pure and sweet, sweeter than the Angels sing,

And then the music stopped and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low he said now what am I bid,
For this old violin and he held it up with a bow.

And then he cried out one give me one thousand,
Who'll make it two only two thousand who'll make it three,
Three thousand twice you know that's a good price,
Common who's gonna to bid for me?

And the people cried out what made the change we don't understand,
Then the auctioneer stopped, and he said with a smile,
It was the touch of the Master's hand.

 

You know threes many a man with his life out of tune,
Battered and scared with sin and he's auctioned cheap,
To a thankless world much like that old violin,

Oh, but then the Master comes,
And that old foolish crowd they never understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is rought,
Just by one touch of the Masters hand.

 

It was the touch, that's all it was; it was the touch of the Master's hand,
It was the touch of the Master's hand; oh, it was the touch of the Master's hand

 

I would like such a touch, though a bit afraid too….