The Gift
“Who’ll give me a dollar
And who will make it five?
See how the sunlight hits it
Why, it almost appears alive!”
But – he couldn’t get an offer
No matter how hard he tried
The painting came from an ‘Estate Sale’
The last of a line had died,
The owner had been a real recluse
And hardly ever ventured out
The homestead was a shambles
He was penniless, no doubt,
Though the family once was wealthy
Bad decisions had been made
And so today – an auction
Held in an overgrown glade,
It was cobwebbed, dusty, and faded
In a gilded old-fashioned frame
It didn’t mean much to the bidders
At least, the few that came,
Then, a limousine came lumbering
Up the narrow, gutted, lane
It carried a classic “Gentleman”
Who walked with an ornate cane,
“Okay, c’mon, who’ll bid it ten
Its worth at least that much!”
The aristocrat in the New York suit
Well knew the Master’s touch,
“I’ll give you ten, good fellow
Ten Thousand dollars, I mean!”
He recognized the artwork
And knew the ancient scene,
It pictured a crucifixion
And Calvary was the place
Designed to draw the vision
To the suffering Savior’s face,
“It’s a standout from the Renaissance
Just look at the pigment, the dyes
The lusty strokes of the artisan
Its a feast to fill the eyes,
It must have come from the Old Country
Several generations past
It was only due to sheerest luck
I happened to cross its path,
And did I say Ten Thousand
It’s worth a hundred, I’d guess
So I’ll give you a Hundred Thousand
And not a penny less,
It’ll be a family treasure
Get its proper respect once more
There’ll only be one string attached
That – the money goes to the poor,
It won’t be long ’til Christmas again
There’ll be many that require a lift
Let’s make it a Hundred and Fifty
To honour His birth … my gift!”
This – in answer to a family’s prayers
That together – sincerely prays
All their special needs thus met
The Lord works … in mysterious ways!
D.C. Butterfield
