TWO BOXES
I have in my hands two boxes
Which God gave me to hold
He said,"Put all your
sorrows in the black,
And
all your joys in the gold."
I heeded his words, and in the
two boxes
Both my joys and
sorrows I store
But though the gold became
heavier each day
The black
was as light as before
With curiosity, I opened the
black box
I wanted to find out why
And I saw, in the base of the
box,
a hole Which my sorrows
had fallen out by
I showed the hole to God, and
mused aloud,
"I wonder where
my sorrows could be."
He smiled a gentle smile at
me.
"My child, they're all here with
me."
I asked,"God, why give me the
boxes,
"Why the gold, and the black
with the hole?
"My child,
the gold is for you to count
your blessings,
the black is
for you to let go."
