Friday, January 12, 2007

Notes

She walked carefully over to the piano, as if she were afraid she'd startle it by approaching too quickly. She must have stared at the keys for a full minute, a thoughtful look upon her face. She had been here before so many times. Notes had formed chords and progressions, swelling dynamics and silences, bringing tears of both release and comfort. She didn't see him standing there.

He stood secretly in the shadowed door watching her. He was captivated by what move she'd make next. He'd met her that week, only briefly as they were out for coffee with friends. Something in her eyes made him want to know more...not just about her, but about God and life and all that it held. He hadn't felt alive like that for quite some time.

She began with her right hand, playing a broken chord in a minor key. The melody was simple and pristine, yet melancholy. Slowly she added her left hand, swaying as the song built and sitting impossibly still when it was quiet. She closed her eyes and let her mind escape to a far away place. The tensions of the day seemed to fall away from her like autumn leaves off a tree.

He couldn't help but feel the same...he tried to imagine what she might be thinking and feeling as she played. He sensed a profound depth in the melodies that flowed from her heart to her hands and translated into music, which in turn translated back into emotion. He'd not seen anything like it in all his years.

The last note drifted away. She sat in silence, allowing the stillness to seep into the core of her being. She wasn't sure what to do next, and she was perfectly at peace with that. For the first time in months, she was able to be quiet. Gently, perfectly, tenderly...she felt his hand on her shoulder.

Do you believe in second chances?

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