Unfinished Melodies, Unfinished Stories

It is a quiet Sunday afternoon and Mr. Dinn's young piano students are having one of those quarterly recitals in a nursing home. Mr. Dinn usually holds the recital there to hit two birds with one stone: the first, to provide some entertainment to the elderly men and women residing in that facility, and second, to teach his students the value of service by using their talents (piano music) for others.

This afternoon, the students' audience consists of 12 residents all sitting in their wheelchairs around tables. A few are looking as each student played his or her pieces. Some are staring at the performer, apparently trying to absorb the music. Some have their eyes closed, or showing signs they are about to fall asleep. One is in a reclining position, with eyes closed and mouth wide open, most probably unaware of what is going on. One resident is able to move her wheelchair a little back and forth (she is the most active of all) and she seems to be surveying the performance area.

A couple of caregivers are there keeping an eye on their wards with an unobstrusive presence.

Seeing their serene looks, it occurred to me that behind those almost expressionless faces, behind those tired bodies, each one has a story to tell: the circumstances of their birth, their childhood, their education, their profession, their family life before they were brought here in their old age. What are they thinking of? And what are they looking forward to?

The performers: the young, just starting out in their lives, vibrant, energetic, making their music, looking into the future, still developing their skills and being formed in their outlook. Their story can even now be written, but there are still many chapters to unfold . . . in time . . . and God will be there.

The audience: the very old, already close to the end of their lives, drained of their strength, almost spent, have made their own music, looking at their past, already made. Their story can even now be written, but the last chapter is still to be . . . there is still some time. . . . and God is there.

May these distinct lives be lived and written as great, inspiring, and happy-ending stories told. Having some similarity to the greatest story ever told . . . of the One Who cares, Who truly cares . . . all the time . . . always!!#