This is a true story and it will give you the chills.
This is a beautiful and touching story of love and perseverance. Well worth
the read.
At the prodding of my friends I am writing this story. My name is Mildred
Honor and I am a former elementary school music teacher from DesMoines,
Iowa.
I have always supplemented my income by teaching piano lessons - something I
have done for over 30 years.
During those years I found that children have many levels of musical
ability, and even though I have never had the pleasure of having a prodigy,
I have taught some very talented students.
However, I have also had my share of what I call 'musically challenged'
pupils - one such pupil being 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 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 piano 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
would always say 'My mom's going to hear me play someday'. But to me, 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 dropped
in.
Then one day Robby stopped coming for his lessons. I thought about calling
him, but assumed that because of his lack of ability he had decided to
pursue something else. I was also glad that he had stopped coming - he was a
bad advertisement for my teaching!
Several weeks later I mailed a flyer recital to the students' homes. To my
surprise, Robby (who had received a flyer) asked me if he could be in the
recital. I told him that the recital was for current pupils and that because
he had dropped out, he really did not qualify.
He told me that his mother had been sick and unable to take him to his piano
lessons, but that he had been practicing. 'Please Miss Honor, I've just got
to play' he insisted. I don't know what led me to allow him to play in the
recital - perhaps it was his insistence or maybe something inside of me
saying that it would be all right.
The night of the recital came and the high school gymnasium was packed with
parents, relatives and friends. I put Robby last in the program, just before
I was to come up and thank all the students and play a finishing piece. I
thought that any damage he might 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 the stage. His clothes were wrinkled
and his hair looked as though he had run an egg beater through it. 'Why
wasn't he dressed 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 I was surprised when he announced that
he had chosen to play Mozart's Concerto No.
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 anyone 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 have never heard you play like that
Robby, how did you do it?
' Through the microphone Robby explained: 'Well, Miss Honor ....
remember I told you that my mom was sick? Well, she actually had cancer and
passed away this morning. And well ...... she was born deaf, so tonight was
the first time she had ever heard me play, and 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 in to foster care, I noticed
that even their eyes were red and puffy. I thought to myself then how much
richer my life had been for taking Robby as my pupil.
No, I have never had a prodigy, but that night I became a prodigy .......
of Robby. He was the teacher and I was the pupil, for he had taught me the
meaning of perseverance and love and believing in yourself, and may be even
taking a chance on someone and you didn't know why.
Robby was killed years later in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P.
Murray Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April, 1995.
Thank you for reading this.
May God Bless you today, tomorrow and always.
If God didn't have a purpose for us, we
wouldn't be here!
USA, IN GOD WE TRUST!
--
Live simply.
Love generously.
Care deeply.
Speak kindly.
Leave the rest to God.
