Billy was just a little fellow. One day as he was walking along scuffing his feet, he happened to kick up a little stone. He watched the way it rolled, noticed that it seemed to have a little color to it, so he picked it up, juggled it in his hand a little while, and then popped it into his pocket. Somehow, he liked the feel of it and so kept it in his pocket day after day and called it his lucky stone.
Billy had a friend, an old craftsman, who worked as a lapidary in a jewelry store. His work was to polish precious stones and the forming of beautiful objects from gold, silver and other valuable metals. Billy loved to visit the lapidary and talk with him at the side of his bench. The old man enjoyed it too. Often, he would tell stories and talk to Billy of many interesting things. Sometimes he would even try to teach him some of his exceptional skills in the working of gold and silver.
One day as Billy sat talking with the old craftsman, he took the little stone out of his pocket to play with it. He’d become quite fond of it and had determined that he would keep it forever.
The craftsman suddenly looked at him and said, quite surprisingly, “Billy, give me that stone.”
The boy quickly closed his fist and said, “Oh, that’s nothing but a lucky stone I picked up.”
“Give it to me, Billy.”
“Oh, it’s just a little old stone,” Billy pouted, then put it back in his pocket.
“Give me the stone, Billy.”
The boy was embarrassed by the request, but he started talking about something else, and a few minutes later he left the shop. He felt rather funny about having refused the thing that the man had asked, but it was his idea that since it was a lucky stone, he must keep it himself, and never let anyone else have it.
For the next few days Billy did not go back to the jewelry shop because of his embarrassment. A week later, however, hoping that the whole incident had been forgotten, he went back to visit his friend again. As they talked, the man looked into Billy’s eyes smiling, and said, “Son, give me your stone.”
“What stone?”
“The stone in your pocket, Billy, give it to me.” “B-but.”
“Give it to me, Billy,” he insisted, “give me the stone.”
Billy didn’t lift his eyes to the old man’s face but put his hand reluctantly into his pocket. Very slowly he extended his hand and dropped the stone into the upturned palm.
The man continued with his work, and a little later Billy left the shop still feeling uneasy and a little resentful that his friend had kept the stone.
Some days later when he came back into the shop, Billy was surprised to see that the craftsman had his stone on the table. With a chisel in one hand, and a small hammer in the other, he was hitting it, and turning it, and hitting it again, and again, and again, and again.
Curious, Billy sat down and watched. After a long time of having worked on the stone, suddenly a piece came off. Billy could see that inside was a brilliant green gem the color of clear, cool water. Day after day as the old man continued to work, Billy saw forming before his eyes, a beautiful and precious emerald. When it was finished, and polished, he held it for Billy to see. The sunlight shining on it caused iridescent rays to sparkle out.
It was a beautiful gem. As he reached out to take it, the man withdrew his hand. “No, Billy, one doesn’t play with a stone like this.” With great care he put it back into his strongbox, wrapping it in a piece of white velvet.
“But isn’t it my stone?”
“Yes, Billy, it is your stone. Perhaps it will send you to college or build you a fine home someday. Perhaps it will do something even better than that, but one doesn’t play with this kind of stone.”
“But why didn’t you tell me?” asked Billy.
Then the wise old man turned from his work and looked right into Billy’s eye’s, “Son, I also wanted you to understand how God works with you. Our heavenly Father calls to you and says, ‘My son, give Me your heart.’”
“Lotsofboyssay,‘MylifeismyowntodowithasIwant.IcanlivethewayIlike to.’ It’s your life, yes, but God wants it. When He says, ‘My son, give Me your heart,’ He means, ‘Give me your life—just turn your whole self over into My hand.’ At first, many boys don’t want to do that. They want to hold on to life and play with it. But one doesn’t play with a stone like this, because it is precious. “If you turn your heart and your life and everything into God’s hand, He will work it, polish it in His way until it shines like a sparkling gem.”