Thursday, 13 October 2011

Healing Hands

This is kind of a recount of something special I witnessed when visiting my friend in the mental health unit the other day....

Healing Hands

The daisies underneath the weeping willow were closing as the shadows of nightime began to fall outside the window of the tiny room.

Amongst the dust and grandmotherly chairs, an old wooden piano stood out, its beauty finally brought to life after waiting patiently in the same spot for years with nothing for company but the old grandfather clock.

Music echoed through the hallways, beatiful enchanting music - And they came.

Like rat's to the pied piper, the people had followed and soon the doorway was filled with an audience of the scared the overwhelmed and the lonely.

Brought together in this moment, they had gathered with unanimous awe for the young man sitting at the old piano, playing without written notes to reflect upon.

A small bead of sweat ran down the dark skin of the young doctor as his fingers hit the keys, the passion he felt through his semi closed eyes radiated to the world around him, and people wondered aloud if perhaps he had missed his true calling.

A wave of calm and serenity washed over the unlikely audience and they were one, the failings of life temporarily forgotten.

The music stopped suddenly and the young doctor arose from his chair, momentarily embarrassed by his onlookers, he smiled and walked out of the room quickly, his healing hands had other work to do.

Do you sometimes find beauty in unexpected places?


J. A. Bennett said...

This story reminds me of a you tube video I saw of an old couple who played an impromptu duet for some people in a waiting room. Seriously the cutest thing ever!

Muddled Up Mumma said...

Beautifully written. I have witnessed similar moments at the nursing home my grandmother was in. Stopping by for FYBF.