When she wound the key, a soft, melancholic melody played. It wasn’t a typical lullaby. It was the hymn "O Tano Batak" — an old HKBP song about homeland and faith.
With the elders’ permission, Ruth wound the key fully. The hymn played, and then—a crackling voice: Pdt. Sirait, recorded decades ago, speaking in Batak Toba: “Aku, Sirait, di tahun 1948, belum mengampuni Hatuaanku di Samosir. Hari ini, aku menulis pengakuan ini. Maafkan aku. Maafkan satu sama lain. HKBP bukan tentang tanah. HKBP adalah tentang salib.” (I, Sirait, in 1948, have not yet forgiven my elder in Samosir. Today, I write this confession. Forgive me. Forgive each other. HKBP is not about land. HKBP is about the cross.) Silence fell. Then, old Hutapea’s grandson stood, walked to Pangaribuan’s descendant, and embraced him. Tears followed. The congregation began to sing “Sai Ho Do” (Only You, Lord). Ruth donated the music box to the HKBP Museum in Tarutung. A small plaque now reads: “Musik Box HKBP – Full Reconciliation, 1948–2024.” Every year, on the anniversary of its discovery, the box is played once during service—not as a relic, but as a reminder that forgiveness completes the music of faith. End of story. musik box hkbp full
Neither deacon ever played it. The feud continued for years. Eventually, Pdt. Sirait was transferred in disgrace. The box vanished into private hands—until now. Ruth asked, “What does ‘HKBP Full’ mean?” When she wound the key, a soft, melancholic melody played