I sat in my uncomfortable seat, watching as she made her laborious trek over to the piano. I was sitting in the very front row, thanks to the cute boy next to me, and I sat up a little straighter as she eased herself down onto the creaky piano bench. “Here we go,” I thought during the silence that stretched out before she began. Then, slowly, beautifully, her fingers caressed the keys, blending the familiar tunes of “Come Thou Fount” and “Come, Come Ye Saints.” As the medley continued, I surrendered to the peace and comfort that were washing over me. As I felt the spirit fill me, I developed a deep love for Mary, this autistic musician.
On the way home from church, Jason turned to me and asked if I’d like to help him make a treat for Mary (as a token of appreciation). Delighted at the prospect, we gathered ingredients (borrowing some from neighbors, as one must do on the Sabbath) and cheerfully baked a Texas Sheet Cake. We decorated the top with a smile of oreos, and set off to deliver our prize.
We entered Mary’s living room, presenting her with the cake and a shower of compliments. As soon as she started talking, however, I could tell that something was wrong. I asked her if she was doing ok. She told us, through her running nose and tears, that she had been feeling terribly sick, but that she’d just had a blessing. She thanked us for the cake and assured us that there was nothing we could do for her. We told again how beautiful her piano piece had been and that it truly helped us to feel the spirit.
At that point, Beautiful Mary proceeded to tell us that she loved those two pieces of music and that they always moved her deeply. She continued and bore her testimony to us in a beautifully simple manner, pleading with us to try and understand the magnitude of our Heavenly Father’s love for us. “God loves you so much. More than the whole world. People know that, but they don’t know. More than the whole world…” We assured her that her song had conveyed that message, and thanked her once again for sharing with us. We hugged her goodbye and made her promise to let us know if there was anything we could do to help.
As we walked down the stairs, Jason and I were silent. After a moment, Jason’s gentle voice expressed the awe and love we both felt for her… love for a girl with faith so unwavering and so pure that it inspires all who are blessed with her presence.
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2 comments:
The title is lovely. I like the immediate focus on someone other than yourself. How long ago did this happen? Is it in the distant or recent past? Sometimes we need more time to process the full significance of an experience. I like this as a portrait of a unique person. I would like to know her better. What happened to her? Why are you telling us? A few of your sentence structures are ambiguous. Have a classmate or roommate or friend read this out loud to you, and notice if they stumble at some structural problems.
Really great descriptions. I, too, like that you focused on someone other than yourself, without losing yourself in the writing process. One suggestion: the line "After knocking on a door and realizing we had the wrong apartment" caused me to lose the flow of the writing. Is it important for the reader to know this?
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