Only music

A little girl just came out from surgery and was transferred to the PICU. The staff could not find her mother. The girl, about eight years old, did not speak any English. She was crying softly to herself, eyes wide open, watching with fear all the strangers running around her. Her little hands clutched on to the blanket as if it was her only support. A doctor stood at the end of the bed, checking her monitor and jotting down some notes in the chart. He smiled at us when we came in, gently patted the little girl's feet and went out of the room.

My guide stooped down next to the little girl, talking to her softly in Spanish. She introduced ourselves and told the girl that we were all going to relax and listen to some music. The little girl continued gasping in short, sharp breaths, the way children do when recovering from crying. But my guide's gentle voice calmed her somewhat, as she turned her head and looked at me with those big eyes, both sad and expectant.

I played "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid. She listened attentively and nodded when my guide asked her if she recognized the song. Then an amazing thing happened, so sudden that we could hardly believe our eyes: The sweet little girl wiped her moist face with the back of her hand and closed her eyes. Before long, she pulled up her blanket, turn to one side, curled up, and fell asleep. The song came to a quiet cadence, and we tiptoed our way out.

Only music does that. I am still amazed, after being lulled by it my whole life. Hopefully when she wakes up, she will find her mother by her side, holding her hand.