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At the prodding of her friends,
Mildred Hondorf wrote this story. She was a former
elementary school music teacher from Des Moines, Iowa. She
has always supplemented her income by teaching piano
lessons-something she's done for over 30 years. This is a
very touching True Story Worth Reading !!!
Over
the years I found that children have many levels of musical
ability. I've never had the pleasure of having a prodigy
though I have taught some talented students.
However I've also had my share of what I call "musically
challenged" pupils. One such student was Robby. Robby was 11
years old when his mother (a single Mom) dropped him off for
his first piano lesson. I prefer that students (especially
boys) begin at an earlier age, which I explained to Robby.
But Robby said that it had always been his mother's dream to
hear him play the piano. So I took him as a student. Well,
Robby began with his piano lessons and from the beginning I
thought it was a hopeless endeavor. As much as Robby tried,
he lacked the sense of tone and basic rhythm needed to excel
but he dutifully reviewed his scales and some elementary
pieces that I require all my students to learn.
Over the months he tried and tried while I listened and
cringed and tried to encourage him. At the end of each
weekly lesson he'd always say, "My mom's going to hear
me play someday." But it seemed hopeless. He just
did not have any inborn ability. I only knew his mother from
a distance as she dropped Robby off or waited in her aged
car to pick him up. She always waved and smiled but never
stopped in.
Then one day Robby stopped coming to our lessons.
I thought about calling him but assumed because of his lack
of ability, that he had decided to pursue something else. I
also was glad that he stopped coming. He was a bad
advertisement for my teaching!
Several weeks later I mailed to the student's homes a flyer
on the upcoming recital. To my surprise Robby (who received
a flyer) asked me if he could be in the recital. I told him
that the recital was for current pupils and because he had
dropped out he really did not qualify. He said that his
mother had been sick and unable to take him to piano lessons
but he was still practicing. "Miss Hondorf, I've just
got to play!" he insisted.
I don't know what led me to allow him to play in the
recital. Maybe it was his persistence or maybe it was
something inside of me saying that it would be all right.
The night for the recital came. The high school gymnasium
was packed with parents, friends and relatives. I put Robby
up last in the program before I was to come up and thank all
the students and play a finishing piece. I thought that any
damage he would do would come at the end of the program and
I could always salvage his poor performance through my
"curtain closer."
Well, the recital went off without a hitch. The students had
been practicing and it showed, then Robby came up on stage.
His clothes were wrinkled and his hair looked like he'd run
an eggbeater through it. "Why didn't he dress up like the
other students?" I thought. "Why didn't his mother at least
make him comb his hair for this special night?"
Robby pulled out the piano bench and he began. I was
surprised when he announced that he had chosen Mozart's
Concerto #21 in C Major. I was not prepared for what I heard
next. His fingers were light on the keys, they even danced
nimbly on the ivories. He went from pianissimo to
fortissimo. From allegro to virtuoso. His suspended chords
that Mozart demands were magnificent! Never had I heard
Mozart played so well by people his age. After six and a
half minutes he ended in a grand crescendo and everyone was
on their feet in wild applause.
Overcome and in tears, I ran up on stage and put my arms
around Robby in joy. "I've never heard you play
like that Robby! How'd you do it?"
Through the microphone Robby explained: "Well, Miss
Hondorf, remember I told you my Mom was sick? Well, actually
she had cancer and passed away this morning and well... she
was born deaf so tonight was the first time she ever heard
me play. I wanted to make it special."
There wasn't a dry eye in the house that evening. As the
people from Social Services led Robby from the stage to be
placed into foster care, noticed that even their eyes were
red and puffy, and I thought to myself how much richer my
life had been for taking Robby as my pupil.
No, I've never had a prodigy but that night I became a
prodigy of Robby's. He was the teacher and I was the pupil
for it is he that taught me the meaning of perseverance and
love and believing in yourself and maybe even taking a
chance in someone and you don't know why.
So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people
present us with a choice: Do we act with compassion or do we
pass up that opportunity? Please choose to Make a wonderful
day today, tomorrow and always. If there wasn't a purpose
for us, we wouldn't be here!
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