I hesitated. My parents had always been tough—especially with me. But I nodded. “I think they’ll be impressed.”
That evening, the doorbell rang. My mother greeted me with a tight embrace; my father walked past silently, already eyeing the house. I took a breath and welcomed them in. Lily greeted them politely, doing her best to make a good impression. My mom gave her a nod. My dad barely looked at her.
After dinner, Lily turned to me. “Can I play the song for them?”
“Of course,” I said, trying to sound calm. “I’ll be listening while I clean up.”
From the kitchen, I heard the opening notes. She started slow—nervous—but tried again with steady resolve.
Then I heard it. A stifled laugh. Then another.
I glanced into the living room. Lily sat at the piano, shoulders slumped. Her eyes filled with tears.
“Was that your first time playing?” my mother asked lightly.
“No… I’ve had two lessons,” Lily said, her voice quiet. “It’s just hard with both hands…”
My father laughed. “A dog could’ve done better.”
Something in me froze. I knew that look on Lily’s face. I’d worn it myself for years.
“She’s just getting started,” I said, walking into the room. “She’s doing really well.”
My mother shrugged. “Oh, don’t take it so seriously. We were just teasing.”
But it wasn’t teasing. It was unkindness, and I wasn’t going to let it pass.
“Mom. Dad. I think it’s time to call it a night.”
They stared at me, surprised.
“You’re making her too soft,” my father muttered. “She won’t make it in the real world.”
I took a breath. “You said the same to me. I know what that kind of talk does to a child. And I won’t let history repeat itself.”
My mother tried to respond, but I shook my head gently. “Please. It’s time to go.”
They left without another word.
When I turned around, Lily’s eyes were brimming. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to mess up.”
I knelt beside her and wrapped her in a hug. “You didn’t. You were brave. And I’m proud of you.”
“But they laughed…”
“They were wrong to do that. That doesn’t mean your music wasn’t worth hearing.”
Later, the two of us sat at the piano again. Her hands shook at first, but I nodded and smiled. “Let’s try it together, okay?”
She began to play. The notes were stronger now—clearer. As her melody filled the room, I realized we were doing more than just learning music.
We were healing.
One kind note at a time.