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."
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