I am patient sitting by the vast window as people come and go; a small sign escapes as a couple passes.

I am alone.

For as long as I can recall, it has been so. I have been surrounded by the brethren since our creation yet … I am solitary. The only light in my dark days comes from the faint hope that one day someone will take me from this dreary place; someone who understands, who will listen to my voice. No matter how alone, I hope for this.

A small girl escapes from her parents’ clinging hands. She runs to me, obviously unaware of the etiquette imparted to most. As she approaches, I gaze at the brown curls bouncing along behind her.

The first touch is shocking. It is tentative, yet I can feel the barely contained curiosity shivering in her hands. I silently urge her on, and she climbs onto my lap for a moment before running back to her parents.

The cold comes rushing back. I am alone again; but look! The girl is returning, dragging her mother by the hand. I am not what happens; I am distracted by the seldom-heard tones in each voice.

The little child leans over and hugs as much of me as she can reach. And suddenly I know: we will be together always, this girl and I. The future is clear; with me, she shall make beautiful music.