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 of your joys in the Gold.

I heeded His words, and in the two boses

Both my joys and sorrows I store

But though the gold became heavier each day

The black was 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.