The stones in the wall said,“We have come from mountains
far away—from the sides of rugged cliffs. Fire and water have
worked on us for ages but have only produced crevices. Yet
human hands like yours have made us into homes where children
of your immortal race are born, suffer, rejoice, find rest and
shelter, and learn the lessons that our Maker and yours is teaching.
But to come to the point of being used for this purpose,
we have endured much. Dynamite has torn at our very heart,
and pickaxes have broken and split us into pieces. Often as we
lay disfigured and broken in the quarry, everything seemed to
be without design or meaning. But gradually we were cut into
blocks, and some of us were chiseled with sharper instruments
until we had a fine edge.Now we are complete, are in our proper
places, and are of service.
“You, however, are still in your quarry.You are not complete,
and because of that, as once was the case with us, there is much
you do not understand. But you are destined for a higher building,
and someday you will be placed in it by angelic hands,
becoming a living stone in a heavenly temple.”
In the still air the music lies unheard;
In the rough marble beauty hides unseen;
To make the music and the beauty needs
The master’s touch, the sculptor’s chisel keen.
Great Master, touch us with Your skillful hands;
Let not the music that is in us die!
Great Sculptor, hew and polish us; nor let,
Hidden and lost, Your form within us lie!