By Amelia Harper
He gave this gift with gentle hands,
A treasure rich and rare;
But sand and rock and rugged stone
Obscured the gem so fair.
“I give this gift to you,” He said,
“To polish and to prime;
The future lies within your hands,
So make use of the time.”
Some others placed their precious gifts
Within another’s care,
Because they knew the craft took time—
And time they could not spare.
But you were not content to trust
This task to other hands.
You sought to teach yourself the craft
That such a task demands.
For, you said, “No other hand
Can craft this gem so fair;
My loving eyes can better see
The treasure hidden there.”
So carefully you chipped away
Till brilliance sprang from stone.
You shaped each facet, smoothed each face,
Until the task was done.
Some days you feared that you would fail;
Some days, you saw success.
But still you labored on with love
And gentle tenderness.
Thus, soon the gem He gave to you
Reflected Light sublime;
And then you knew no other task
Was better worth your time.
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