I believe in Christmas miracles. I saw one this morning at the Mansion.

I met Ruth four or five years ago when I began volunteering at the Mansion. Ruth lives in her head and own world.

She is sometimes full of laughter, sometimes angry, sometimes she chooses to be alone and undisturbed. She will, at times, withdraw for days, sitting silently on benches or sofas in the great room.

She can be very angry and short when in a bad mood.

She has one or two friends, but mostly, she stays apart from the other residents, and they tend to stay apart from her. Claudia, her closest friend, says Ruth can be difficult and when that happens, you just have to keep your distance.

Over these years, she has often asked me for help in buying clothes; she is a particular size, not always easy to find. She loved Red and loves Zinnia demanding to see them when they came.

Ruth can be willful and challenging, but we have an easy and good rapport. Like everyone else, I avoid her when the black cloud descends.

She always asks to see me when I am there, and she often tells me about the things she is doing and feeling.

Last week, the Mansion aides were stunned to come to work and find Ruth sitting in the Great Room playing the piano. She had never played the piano before or mentioned a piano, or gone anywhere near the piano at the Mansion.

Her music is haunting, and somehow, somewhere, she learned how to play the piano and learned several songs. She doesn’t care to talk about that or explain it.

I learned of this a few days ago when Ruth asked one of the aides to take a video of her playing and send it to me; I was surprised and enchanted to see it and listen to it. She wanted me to know.

This morning,  I heard her playing when I came into the Mansion to conduct an alternative prayer service – the regular minister is away for a week or so. I am not qualified to judge piano playing, but it is accurate and coherent.

I made a point of listening to her.

She just looked at me and smiled and nodded, then seemed lost in the music. I could tell she was proud.

It is a touching and haunting thing to see, I told her she was a Christmas miracle, and she just looked at me and smiled, and kept playing.

Right after breakfast, one can find Ruth sitting at the piano, playing for an hour or two every morning now. The aides are astonished and bewildered but also happy for her. Me too.