Each day made themselves ready Buddha's likeness to behold.
It was the one possession they most treasured in this life,
For it was finely made by loving hands, of purest gold.
They worshiped every day, prostrated down at Buddha's feet.
Their offerings of love and service made their lives complete.
But then one day they grew afraid that wicked men might come
And steal their precious Buddha, run away on lightning feet.
They pondered much, and formulated plans that very day
To foil the work of anyone who'd try to take away
The golden image they revered. No one must ever know.
They'd hide the golden Buddha 'neath an outer shell of clay.
They said, while working hard to cover up their icon dear...
"We'll save it from those, filled with greed, who just might visit here."
Their scheme was so successful, more than they would ever know.
Their golden Buddha was forgotten after fifty years.
The old monks died. The new who took their places, never told,
Were unaware their Buddha hid a core of precious gold.
But every now and then, there came a legend to their ears
That in this place, a golden Buddha sat, in days of old.
As the golden Buddha rested 'neath it's covering of clay,
The more perceptive of the monks could almost hear it say...
"I'm more than what you see...I want to show my real worth."
So they set about to make it larger...brightened it's display.
They added layer upon layer, made it larger still.
They painted it with richest colors...more and more, until,
They wanted everyone who could to come see what they had.
They tore the walls down 'round it...now in view upon their hill.
But the wind and rain could beat upon it, now it was in sight,
And it soon began to crumble, 'though the monks put up a fight
To protect it from the weather that was softening its shell.
Still, the elements would win the battle, late one monsoon night.
The exhausted monks had given up on trying to save their dream.
The Buddha's many layers now became a muddy stream.
But when they woke next morning to a warm and lovely glow,
They all ran out and saw the Buddha's glorious, golden gleam.
Just like that Buddha, we each have a core of infinite worth.
It's our spirit, who we've been since long before our mortal birth.
We're children of our God...the work of His Almighty Hand.
He's sent us here to learn and grow... be tested on this earth.
The trials and tribulations that we face build up our shells.
There's not-a-one of us that hasn't faced his private Hells.
But if we search ourselves down deep, and purge the things that stain,
The day will come... we'll beam and glow... hear Father say "All's well."
If we but keep our efforts led by who we really are,
And love and serve our fellow man, avoiding things that mar,
Our inner selves will come to light... we'll come forth from the mud
That we go through in this life, and we'll shine... bright as any star!
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