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The Master took many different strands
And began to weave a life,
We could not understand the pattern
For t'was mixed 'tween joy and strife.
And then as the picture neared the center
Where the true beauty began to show
The weaver cut the strands off short,
The reason we did not know.
For the colors had become most lovely
And many there watched to see,
As the fingers of the master paused,
What the reason seemed to be.
Why, why, we cried in our wonderment
Did he not continue to Weave?
And then the answer came to us
"Why must you know, just believe."
And then as we watched we saw others
Come by and look with great care.
And as they looked we could see plainly
A flaw of their own they'd repair.
And as they gazed at the pattern
Their unending search seemed to be o'er
For they mended the flaw in their own robes
Then we continued to puzzle no more.”