The autumn wind blows a soft lullaby as the ruffle of the trees’ dying leaves pay homage to the color of the season. Together with the cold breeze came the hymn of a young ballad that sung with the season’s call. The innocent tune resounded through the stone paths and old foliage, leading to the windows of a humble home. In a little room, one can glance at the image of a little girl and a grand piano. From her little fing...