The Master...
The Master was searching for a vessel to use; on the shelf there were
many - which one would He choose? "Take me", cried the gold one, "I'm
shiny and bright, I'm of great value and I do things just right. My
beauty and luster will outshine the rest and for someone like you,
Master, gold would be the best!"
The Master passed on with no word at all; He looked at a silver urn,
narrow and tall; "I'll serve you, dear Master, I'll pour out Your
drink, and I'll be at your table whenever you dine, my lines are so
graceful, my carvings so true, and my silver will always compliment
you."
Unheeding the Master passed on to the brass, It was wide mouthed and
shallow, and polished like glass. "Here! Here!" cried the vessel, "I
know I will do, Place me on your table for all men to view."
"Look at me", called the goblet of crystal so clear, "My transparency
shows my contents so dear, though fragile am I, I will serve you with
pride, And I'm sure I'll be happy in your house to abide."
The Master came next to a vessel of wood, Polished and carved, it
solidly stood. "You may use me, dear Master", the wooden bowl said,
"But I'd rather you used me for fruit, not for Bread!"
Then the Master looked down and saw a vessel of clay. Empty and
broken it helplessly lay. No hope had the vessel that the Master might
choose, to cleanse and make whole, to fill and to use.
"Ah! This is the vessel I've been hoping to find, I will mend and use
it and make it all Mine." "I need not the vessel with pride of its
self; Nor the one who is narrow to sit on the shelf; Nor the one who
is big mouthed and shallow and loud; Nor one who displays his contents
so proud; Not the one who thinks he can do all things just right; But
this plain earthy vessel filled with My power and might."
Then gently He lifted the vessel of clay. Mended and cleansed it and
filled it that day. Spoke to it kindly. "There's work you must do,
Just pour out to others as I pour into you."
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