Mum's piano

Before she went, my mum said we could have her piano. She'd owned it from new, over 40 years ago. 
When the house was cleared we had nowhere to put it at home, so it's been in storage for the past few months. With no prospect of us giving it a home in the foreseeable future, and storage costs escalating, I was unsure what to do with it.

On a whim, and during the little man's last day at his primary school a few weeks ago, I asked his head teacher if she'd like it. She was quite overwhelmed, and said she'd love it. So today, after various mix-ups with transportation, it found its new home in the school hall.
The little man came with me to see it being delivered. He loved having a free run (hobble) of his empty old school, saying that he had a memory for each square foot of the Victorian building. 
He asked if he could write a letter for his old teacher to read when she arrived in her class for the first day of term. The caretaker kindly waited for us as he wrote a few lines, no doubt explaining how he broke his leg during the first week of his school holidays.

Mum, I'm sure, would be very happy with her piano's new role. The head teacher kindly said she'd have a plaque engraved to put on it.