Melodies Through Time
In the quiet hours of morning, when sunlight stretches across the great room floor, it finds the baby grand — its wooden frame still glowing with the warmth of years gone by. The piano has stories in its soundboard, laughter in its strings, and the echo of hymns that never quite fade.
It was Grandma’s piano first — the heartbeat of her home, the place where voices rose in harmony and children leaned close to listen. When she passed it down, the songs traveled with it — carried from house to house, across states, marking seasons of joy, loss, and change.
And then, at last, the piano came home.
Home to Indiana.
Home to Arrowhead Pass.
Now it rests in the heart of the lodge, where music once again fills the space between them. On any given evening, someone will let their fingers fall across the keys, and play the old hymns — How Great Thou Art, It Is Well, Amazing Grace.
Soon, others gather. Voices rise, harmonies find each other, and the circle of sound grows just like it used to — steady, familiar, alive.
The piano has traveled far and seen much, but here, surrounded by family and faith, it has found a home.