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."