Beautiful

Awhile ago, J's did a rotation at a VA hospital.  When you first walk in, you find yourself in a huge room.  Little rooms open off to the sides of it, like spokes in a great hub.  The ceiling soars to the glass half-walls of the floor above.  This arena is littered with signage, equipment, and, well, litter.  It is filled with tired people in scrubs, sick people in wheelchairs, sad people in ragged clothing.  And at the exact center of it all, surrounded by velvet ropes as if it were some specimen of royal lineage, is a shiny grand piano.
We visited several times, and never saw anyone playing it.  It just sits there, a nice thought that maybe was never practical, never a priority, and forgotten.  People bustle past it, they sit on line in queues all around it, and never seem to notice it.
We visited J a few times at the hospital, mostly when he was on an overnight shift and we would bring him dinner.  Because he was busy with patients, we would come and just wait.  Hang out in the lobby until he had a chance to run down to pick up some food and give us all a hug.  So we waited in the room with the piano.  Little One always noticed it.
On night, while we were waiting and it was late and almost empty inside, Little One sat staring at it. And staring at it.  And staring.  Finally She whispered, please mommy, could She play it.  So we asked the security officer guarding the front door.
"Piana? What piana?"  We pointed.  She looked surprised.  Like in all her time working there, in the same room, she had never realized there was a grand piano surrounded by velvet ropes.  "Well sure honey, I don't care if you play that thing. Go ahead." 
Little One clapped Her hands in front of Her chin and said thank you.  She turned and sort of sideways, sort of slowly, sauntered towards it.  As it it were a wild thing to sneak up on.  As if She might scare it away.
She ran Her hand along the rope, ducked under it, and slid onto the shiny bench.  With effort She lifted the lid, then sat for awhile with Her hands resting on the keys.  After some time, She began to play.  She played bits and pieces of songs She knew, then paused another moment.  When She settled on a song and began again, a man had just come down on the elevator, and was crossing the room in his wheelchair.
She began to play "Old MacDonald".  She played it through to the end.  When She began, the man in the wheelchair stopped short.  He turned.  While She played, he sat frozen.  Watching.  When the song was over, he hollered.
"Yeah! YES!"  Little One looked up.
He clapped and clapped his hands and pointed at Her.  "Old MacDonald! Right? Yes! And you played it! She played it! That was great.  It was! What a thing to hear! Little girl, you got something.  Mom! Don't ever let her stop playing! Don't let her! That was great! Yes! Made my night!" And then, somewhat more quietly, "Thank you."  Little One was bright red.  And smiling.  "You're welcome", She said.
Later that night, Little One asked me, "Why did that man get all a'cited and clap like that?  Why did he say thank you and don't to stop playing piano?"
"Because, Little One, you played music and music is beautiful.  You made something beautiful and he enjoyed it.  It made him happy.  You made him happy with your songs."
Little One looked amazed.  She whispered, "I did?  I did that?"
"Yes!" 
"Wow.  Well.  He made me happy with his clapping and cheering me on, so.  I thought he was beautiful too."