That's Gold!

It was battered and scared and the auctioneer felt it was hardly worth his while / To waste much time on the old violin but he held it up with a smile  / Well it sure ain't much but its all we got left, I guess we aught to sell it to / Oh now who'll start the bid on this old violin / Just one more and we’ll be through
And then he cried one give me one dollar / Who'll make it two, only two dollars who'll make it three / Three dollars twice, now that's a good price / Now who's gonna bid for me / Raise up your hand now, don't wait any longer, the auctions about to end / Who's got four, just one dollar more, to bid on this old violin
Well the air was hot, and the people stood around, as the sun was setting low / From the back of the crowd, a grey haired man came forward, and picked up the bow / He wiped the dust from the old violin then he tightened up the strings / Then he played out a melody pure and sweet, sweeter than the Angels sing
And then the music stopped, and the auctioneer with a voice that was quiet and low / he said now what am I bid for this old violin, and he held it up with a bow
And then he cried out one give me one thousand, who'll make it two, only two thousand, who'll make it three / Three thousand twice you know that's a good price, come on who's gonna bid for me
And the people cried out what made the change we don't understand / Then the auctioneer stopped, and he said with a smile, it was the touch of the Masters hand.
I must admit I really like that.  So often I look at what people do, or hear what people say, and say “that’s gold.”    Inside is something that if others knew about they could say “that’s gold.”  Sometimes the vessel is battered and bruised and scared but what is on the inside is gold.
When Queensland wins the State of Origin series “that’s gold!”  When NSW wins it that’s a tragedy.  Or I could say “that’s fool's gold!”  It all depends who I support.  I have checked, and although I prefer to have our team win, never once has it been the end of the world when we don’t.  Besides, there is always next year.
I am so used to judging a book by its cover.  Sometimes they are on the surface, but it seems to me, gold is not a surface thing.  Nuggets are often underground.  Hidden.  Waiting to be brought to the surface.
I reckon we all have them.  From the person who nobody wants to know, to the one everybody wants to know.  Inside all of us is something that would make others exclaim “that’s gold!”