It’s hard to be different on many levels, but having a good source of support can help a long way. Even though she looks different, she talks differently, and she thinks differently, it doesn’t matter. Aren’t we all different in our own ways? Her mom has blonde hair, her dad has dark brown, and her sister has black. Isn’t that a difference between them? She’s here and she's alive. She lives in her own world of happiness. That doesn’t mean she’s not aware of the real world, she just chooses not to live in it.
“Elizabeth?” I shakily see my mom and dad talking to me about some doctor stuff. I miss out a lot in conversations and such. It’s not their fault, I would just rather be playing with my toys. My favorite is my teddy who my sister named Cuddles. I glance over to see Cuddles in the corner. I point at it, laugh, and clap as a gesture for my mom to go get it for me.
“Elizabeth, we’re talking to you,” my mom said with a very sad face.
“Eli-li-za-beth cud-d-dles,” I said still pointing.
“No you have to listen to us right now” my dad said
“No Eli-liza-beth cudd-dles,” I said once again
“Not right now!” my dad yelled.
My eyes tore up and I screamed. I hate when there is too much noise. Everyone just needs to be quiet! Why wouldn’t they let me play?!? I just wanted to go play with my toy. I started crying, shaking, and yelling as loud as I could until my mom finally got up and got me Cuddles. Now I was fine.
My family and I were usually close except they were always out working so I didn’t see them much. I stayed with my sister most of the time. She was my best friend and we were really close. Except I didn’t like some of her friends. Sometimes when her friends would come over, they would be very mean. Like the other day! I wanted the last chocolate chip cookie but another girl took it. I hate her now! But my sister is a nice girl so she made me more cookies and I could have them all for myself.
“Lizzy do you want to go on a walk?” my sister asked. My family sometimes called me Lizzy. They said I had 2 names because I was super special.
“Liz-zy wal-k,” I said while laughing. My sister took that as a yes. I loved going on walks with my sister. We would go to the park which was my favorite place, but everyone would stare at me. It was scary. My sister got changed and helped me change and we left.
“I have to stop by the store,” my sister said.
“Sto-re!” I gave her a big smile. The store had a lot of toys that I could play with. Even more than I had at home. We walked in the store and I ran for the toy section. Not a good idea. I tripped over my own foot and fell. I heard some kids laughing at me. They were so mean!
“St-op lau-gh-ing!!” I screamed as loud as I could. The whole store went silent. My sister came running as soon as she heard me, grabbed my hand, and dragged me out the store. I started crying.
“Please stop crying,” my sister begged. I immediately stopped, but not because my sister asked, but because I heard a faint tune. It sounded really nice. I grabbed my sister’s hand and started walking towards the music that I heard and before I knew it, I was standing in front of a man who was wearing old looking clothes, tapping on some black and white things making sounds.
“Is this what you wanted to see?” My sister asked, shaking me from my thoughts. I nodded.
“Do you know what that is?” She asked again.
“No,” I responded.
“It’s called a piano.”
“Pi-a-a-no?”
“Yeah a piano, each black and white key makes a different sound.”
“Do you want to try?” The man playing the piano asked. I nodded with excitement. I pressed one key and giggled.
“Lov-ely.” I said. I kept tapping on all our the black and white keys, amazed by this thing. The sounds it made was beautiful.
“Would you like me to play something for you?” the man asked.
“Yes!” I exclaimed. And then I went back to my happy world. My happy world was a place that I would go to if I was feeling really sad or really happy. As I listened, I started to pick up the tune and hummed along. I could only wish to be that talented some day. My sister put some money in his guitar case and we left.
It was the weekend again and my parents were home. Not only that but it was finally summer break. And I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Since that day when we saw the man, I could not stop talking about the piano. Me and my sister went back everyday and the man played us songs. I wanted to learn how to create those sounds, and make them go so beautifully together. I went up to my mom, gave her a hug and told her all about the man with the piano.
“It wa-as so-o pret-ty!” I said, giving her my biggest smile.
“I bet.” She exclaimed.
“Mom-my? Li-z-zy ha-ve pi-ian-o?” I asked politely. My mom’s face changed.
“You want a piano?” She asked. I nodded. My dad overheard our conversation and jumped in.
“Honey, how are you going to learn? Neither mom or dad know how to play. It would be a waste of time,” he said. A waste of time!? My time goes to waste anyways! All I do is sit at home and watch tv, so it would be everything BUT a waste of time. I got really angry and threw whatever was closest to me, which happened to be the remote. It crashed on the floor, I got up screaming and crying and ran off to my room. I heard footsteps and then a quiet knock on my door.
“Honey?” my dad called. “I’m sorry sweetheart I didn’t mean it like that, can we talk?”
“NO!” I yelled.
“Please?” He said as he slowly opened the door, walked in, sat down next to me on my bed. I crossed my arms and looked away. But he started tickling me and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I started laughing.
“St-o-op.” I said in the midst of my giggles.
“Only if you make a deal with me,” he said. “I will stop once you promise that you forgive me.”
“I pr-o-mis-ee!!” I laughed.
The next day me and my dad went to this place where they give piano lessons. We walked by the man playing on the street and my dad let me put some money into his guitar case.  My dad said he would buy me a piano only after I learned to play. I thought that was a pretty good deal. We walked in and I saw some kids playing. It sounded lovely as well. My dad went to go talk to the lady who was the teacher. I went around the room and all the kids kept playing by themselves. I wanted to try too, so I stood next to a guy who was playing really nicely. Even better than the other kids. I thought I could help him, so I went ahead and pressed on a button.
“What do YOU think you’re doing?” he asked.
“Wha-at do y-ou th-in-k yo-ur’e do-i-ing?” I replied.
“What am I doing!? Can’t you see that I was playing? You messed me up you weirdo!”
Everyone got silent. That made really angry! How dare he call me a weirdo? I was just trying to help him and he didn’t even appreciate it. I did what I could think of which was smash down his keys on the piano and run out of there. I ran until I reached the man on the street. He was playing with a big smile on his face just like every day.
“Pl-aa-y fo-r Liz-zy?” I asked him, wiping the tears off my face.
“No problem sweetheart,” he responded. And with that he moved his fingers swiftly across the keyboard and I went back into my world. That was until my dad called for me really loudly, taking my thoughts away.
“Lizzy!” he yelled, “How many times have I told you not to leave like that?”
“Li-z-zy so-r-ry.” I said. My dad thanked the man for watching out for me when I got there, and we walked home.
The next day my dad told me how that the place we went to for piano lessons was already full. Good thing I hated it there anyways.
“How are you going to learn now?” my dad asked concerned. But I already had the perfect idea.
“M-an gi-v-e Li-z-zy le-sss-ons?” I asked. My dad seemed a little taken back by this.
“You mean the man on the street?” I nodded.
“He’s not a real player honey, he can’t teach you how to play,” my dad said.
“Re-a-al pl-a-a-ye-r!” I wanted the man on the street. It was my decision. He was the only one who really understood me. When he played, it took me back to my happy world, and that’s exactly where I wanted to be. My dad was hesitant at this idea. He explained to me that the man was homeless and poor. That he was different and had to play his piano to gather money. He said it wasn’t safe for me to be with him. I didn’t really understand what all that meant, but I didn’t really want to either. He was probably better than the lady who gave piano lessons. So what he didn’t have a fancy room to practice in. He was good and I wanted him to be my tutor.
“We can go see,” he said.
The man on the street, whose name I learned was Ethan, was shocked by this.
“You want me teach you?” he asked astonished. I nodded in response.
“Why? I’m dirty, homeless, and I don’t even play a real piano. This guy is just a small friend.” he said while pointing to the keyboard.
“My daughter has heard you play and she likes it. As you can see, not many places will teach her because of her- situation. We will pay you.”
“Sir, if I had the privilege to teach your daughter, it wouldn’t be for money. Many people go by without giving me a second look but you made my day. I will gladly take your offer.” I had never been that happy in my life. And so my journey to play the piano began. It was tough and I messed up a lot.
“I ca-n’t do i-t.!” I exclaimed!
“You can little one. Don’t give up just yet. It was frustrating but I gradually grew with the movement of my fingers. My dad booked a room for me in a building where pianos were available for use. Me and Ethan would practice every weekend.
“Would you play something for my birthday?” my sister asked me one day.
“Me?” I said with excitement. No one but Ethan had heard me play before. I was nervous but overwhelmed with happiness that my sister would ask me.
“Yes Elizabeth!” she said. “I haven’t gotten a chance to hear you.”
I worked hard, everyday on my sister’s song. I wanted it to be perfect. I named the song “Invisible Magic.” It represented how beautiful music was, even though you couldn’t see it.
So I guess the true meaning of life for Elizabeth was to keep doing what she was doing. She found and pursued her love for music and with so many obstacles in the way, she was able to do what she wanted. Elizabeth was different, but that was never a problem for her. Everyone is different, so she was never the one to judge.