* 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 box
* 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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