Bag of Songs

I have a bag of songs. Each hospital room calls for a uniquely crafted, hand-made, hand-delivered, personalized, cocktail-concoction, song medley of healing. Some need happy. Some need to be eased into happy. Some need to release sad. Some need sleep.
A friend and I walked into a room where a lone soldier lay stretched out on the bed. Pain, suffering and exhaustion laced his battered eyes. We barely spoke to him. My friend began to strum, I began to flaut....gently. He began to drift... gently....and after 20 minutes his eyes gave up and he fell asleep. We tip-toed into the hallway, like parents who just put their baby to bed, to find his Mother, Father and four sisters with tears dripping down their faces.
"You don't know what you just did" the mother said through her tears.
"Our son watched three of his friends die in Lebanon two days ago. He then killed those who killed his friends and in the battle he got shrapnel in his leg. This is the first time he's slept in over two days."
I accepted her thanks and reminded her that if it weren't for brave soldiers like her son, protecting us/me day in and out, I wouldn't be able to sleep at night either.