Before-bed read

few sang along with me.

I noticed a few nurses and aides had gathered at the doorway to watch. The staff joined in the singing as I played the second song, “Joy to the World.” Then, Ms. Smolinsky entered. I ceased playing as they led her to my side. She spoke in gibberish, so I could only nod my head and smile. It seemed we weren’t going to have any meaningful conversations.

How was I to comfort my patient? When I looked into Ms. Smolinsky’s eyes, I saw a spark of interest. But in what? Oh, yes, of course, she wanted me to play more music. That had to be it. I played another song. More guttural sounds came from her mouth, and she placed her hands onto the keyboard. What could she want? She pushed her fingers onto the top of the keyboard and bounced them up and down. Then it dawned on me: She wanted to play. I didn’t know what to do, for I figured she’d pound on it like a child.

She became louder with her unrecognizable words and more forceful as she pounded on the keyboard. I asked her, “Do you wish to play, Ms. Smolinsky?” As if she understood, she nodded. What did I have to lose? If it gave her happiness, we could listen to the pounding of keys for a few minutes.

I stepped aside, and Ms. Smolinsky took my place before the keyboard. I readied myself for the inevitable

when I heard the most beautiful, concerto-style music fill the air. I glanced at my patient and saw her lost in another world—one full of beauty, passion and magnificent sound.

The room was silent, all eyes focused on this miracle we shared. Our hearts and souls were full of joy as we were one with Ms. Smolinsky. What a grand present she had brought to us this day.

When she tired of playing, I gave her a huge hug. And as I smiled, our eyes locked. I saw life in those eyes. I saw purpose. And, most of all, I saw her as a valuable person who, on that day and many more to come, would enrich all of us with her talent.

Thank you, Ms. Smolinsky. I know none of us who witnessed the outstanding music shall ever forget the gift you brought to us.

—Monica M. Brinkman