The Master's Touch Massage

About Us


I attended Southeastern Institute of Neuromuscular Massage in Nashville, Tennessee and graduated in August, 2010. I have since been in practice for myself under the name of The Master's Touch Massage (based on the well known poem "The Touch of the Master's Hand" by Myra Welch, featured below) and have also been employed by a well-known national franchise, as well as a locally renowned massage clinic. I enjoy serving people, and making them feel better through intentive touch and massage. My goal is to become adept at many different modalities, through which I can provide even more services and solutions for muscle and nerve maladies. (Update July 2022): I am now certified in TMJ Management massage. (Update February 2023): Now officially offering hot stone massage as one of my modalities.


I studied massage at Mind Body Institute in Madison, TN and graduated in June 2021. Helping people with their self care needs through massage is my passion and purpose. I specialize in deep tissue with reposing feel. I love helping clients relax their bodies and calm their minds. No massage is ever the same, so I and the client will work together to find the best way to address what is needed to reach the client's goals.


The Touch of the Master's Hand

It was battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.

"What am I bid, good people", he cried,
"Who starts the bidding for me?"
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
"Two dollars, who makes it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,"

But, No,
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it aloft with its bow.

"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?"
"Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone", said he.

The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
"We just don't understand."
"What changed its worth?"
Swift came the reply.
"The Touch of the Masters Hand."

And many a man with life out of tune
All battered with bourbon and gin
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin

A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.

But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Master's Hand.

Myra Brooks Welch