I would like to share with you a beautiful and inspirational poem. It is called “The Touch Of The Master’s Hand,” by Myra B. Welch.

                        T'was battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
                        Thought it scarcely worth his while
                        To waste much time on the old violin
                        But held it up with a smile
 

                       "What am I bidden good folks," he cried,
                       "Who'll start the bidding for me?"
                        "A dollar, a dollar," then two! Only two?
                        "Two dollars, and who'll make it three?
 

                        "Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
                          Going for three.... " But no,
 

       [It was just about to be sold for only three dollars because people were judging its value by its rough exterior, but then something happened that changed it drastically].
 

                           From the room, far back, came a grey haired man
                           Came forward and picked up the bow;
 

                           Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,
                           And tightening the loose strings,
                           He played a melody pure and sweet
                           As a hymning angel sings.
 

                          The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
                          With a voice that was quiet and low,
                           Said, "What am I bid for the old violin?"
                           And he held it up with the bow.
 

                             "A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two?
                              Two thousand! And who'll make it three?       
                              Three thousand once; three thousand twice;
                              And going and gone," said he
 

                               The people cheered, but some of them cried,
                                "We do not quite understand
                                What changed its worth?" Swift came the reply:
                                "The touch of the master's hand."
 

            [This is the first half of the poem that teaches us an important lesson of life. Sometimes you need a master to show everyone the real potential that may be lying dormant within. Now she applies it to all of us].
 

                                And many a man with life out of tune,
                                And battered and scarred with sin,
                                 Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,
                                 Much like the old violin.
 

                                  A "mess of pottage," a glass of wine;
                                  A game, and he travels on.
                                  He's "going" once, and "going" twice,
                                  He's "going" and almost "gone."
 

                                   But the Master comes and the foolish crowd
                                   Never can quite understand 
                                   The worth of a soul and the change that's wrought
                                   By the touch of the Master's hand.

   I think we can all relate to this poem. The Master is Hashem Yisborach and any one of his agents. It could be a Parent, a Rebbi, a family member, a friend, an inspirational story or event that show us as well as everyone else our true potential. The only thing that I would add is that she writes that we are "auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd." Well, many of us are auctioned cheap to ourselves.
 

But there is one big difference between the violin and us. The violin has no free will. When the master wanted to show its potential it didn’t resist.
 

But WE have free will, and many times we are not interested in finding out our potential.
 

Neveh, with its unique blend of patience, tolerance,love, dedication, sincerity, and of course, the hospitality of  the Rebbetzins has helped you realize your potential. You have become a pride to Hashem, your family, and all of Klal Yisroel.