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
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."