Fifty-six years ago, a handsome young Edwardo made the long journey to Mexico City with his new bride. It was their honeymoon, and though he had little money in those early days, he wanted to take her to the most elegant restaurant in town. And so he did, and he thus marked the beginning of a lifetime together.

Today, Edwardo and family came together to comfort his wife. Laying in a hospital bed, she was connected to oxygen and faced the end of her life. From their darkened room Edwardo heard strains of violin music floating down the hallway into the open doorway. It so happened he heard me playing selections of music for my mother, as I frequently do when visiting her convalescent home.

And so, a still very handsome 80 year old man appeared at our doorway. He shyly asked if they could listen for a while. Edwardo knew his music, and recognized everything I played, from Bach to Schubert. At one point he recited the Spanish version poem of Schubert’s lovely Serenade, while I played the melody.

It wasn’t long before I found myself down the hall, playing for Edwardo, his wife and company. The request: Monti’s Csardas, the very same piece the young married couple remembered from their honeymoon, more half a century ago. The proprietor of that Mexico City restaurant played it that night for the newly married couple. I had the honor and privilege of recreating that moment, as Edwardo cradled his very weak wife’s head in his arms, as he once again affirmed his love. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room, including mine. It was a tender moment I’ll never forget.

Such is the joy and magic of music. It transcends borders and crosses generations unabated. It’s truly a gift of the spirit and the highest expression of humanity.