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Monday, June 16, 2008

Robby's Night

Someone sent this to me.
I had to share.
> True Story Worth Reading !!!
>
>
>
> At the prodding of my
> friends, I am writing this story. My name is Mildred
> Hondorf. I am a former elementary school music
> teacher from Des Moines, Iowa. I've always
> supplemented my income by teaching piano
> lessons-something I've done for over 30 years. 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 th e
> 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 Rob by 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 bee n 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.
>
>
>
> Robby was killed in the
> senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal
> Building in Oklahoma City in April of 1995. And now,
> a footnote to the story.
> 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 and leave the world a bit colder in
> the process?
>
> 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!

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