In the tranquil embrace of a quaint countryside in England, the golden sunlight emerged across a lush green field and the calm blue water of a pond. A large one-story building wrapped around the circumference of the field and housed those who fell ill. The staff within the building carefully cared for each patient.
Thomas was an older man, about seventy years of age. He sat by the window, massaging his ailing joints. Life had been kind to Thomas, but age was starting to take its toll. Thomas had a daily routine; he woke up before the sun rose and watched the golden light cover the field. He would then spend the rest of the day watching TV, playing what games he could, and chatting with the other members before returning to his room to watch the sun set. The days quickly grew monotonous, but it was paradise for Thomas.
One morning, when the sun was struggling to crest the dull clouds, Thomas sat at the window, listening to the sounds of nature wake up one by one. As he listened, he began to hear a sound. It was familiar, from a distant past. Thomas listened inquisitively as it emanated from the small village just beyond the perimeter of the field. The sound was beautiful and almost angelic. Thomas closed his eyes and took in every note and sound that flowed effortlessly across the open air. He could feel the sound vibrate and, not long after, his whole body began to resonate. It had infused Thomas with a joy that he had long since forgotten. In this moment, his joints danced along with the sway of his hips, carefree of the pain they once felt.
“I have to see where this sound is coming from.”
Thomas shuffled his feet over to his bedroom door and trotted down the hallway to the front door, ignoring everyone. He walked out into the calm fresh breeze that gently rustled the leaves. The angelic sound grew louder as he gracefully slid across the pathway that took him into the village.
It was bustling with people, all out shopping, working, and hanging around. Thomas looked around carefully until his eyes finally settled on the source of the sound. “Wow,” he whispered while he watched on.
In Thomas’s view stood a beautiful woman with long brown hair that swayed slightly slower than the rest of her body. In her hands was a chestnut-coloured violin that reverberated with each note. Her fingers elegantly danced around the strings while the bow in her other hand gilded back and forth. The sound had brought Thomas back to a time when he watched his own daughter play the violin. He reminisced with his eyes closed until the music came to a finale. Thomas opened his eyes and waited for the crowd to clear away.
“That was beautiful,” he said as he shuffled up to her. “How long have you been playing, my dear?”
“Oh, thank you, I have been playing for ten years now.”
“That is wonderful, you remind me of my daughter, she used to play as well. I am Thomas.”
“Thomas, I’m Eliza, it’s nice to meet you.”
“So, what brings you to my village, Mr. Thomas? I don’t think I have seen you here before.”
“Well, your music of course. I live at the nursing home over there and I heard your music through the window.”
“I didn’t realize it carried that far, but I am glad it got you up and about. Everyone should know about the healing power of music.”
“I have not felt this good in years.” Thomas swayed from his knees, as if he had a brand new body. “Say, why don’t you come play at the home sometime, I’m sure they would love it.”
“How about tomorrow?”
“Wonderful, I can’t wait.”
Thomas turned and walked back to the nursing home, feeling refreshed. He made a point to tell every person he saw that Eliza would be coming to play and that they all needed to be there for it. When the next morning finally came, Thomas was the first person waiting for that healing power of music he had felt the day before. He sat in a chair in the main hall where entertainers would usually perform. One by one, other members came in and filled the remaining seats.
Eliza walked onto the stage, pulled out her violin, and began to play a melody so serene that everyone tuned in. Smiles slowly popped up on their faces and, as the music went on, life returned to the legs of many. The chairs were pushed out of the way and the room was soon filled with the echoes of soft feet dancing around the room. The staff and caregivers watched on and to their amazement, they saw patients dancing, the same patients who had never gotten out of their chairs before.
The music of Eliza brought new life to the residents, saturating their cells with the harmony and healing power of music. Eliza returned every weekend to replenish the bliss and joy the residents never knew they could feel again.