A STORY OF PIANIST AS AN aatmaa
(SOUL)
"We all have thousands of opportunities a day to help realize God's plan. So many
seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do
we pass along a spark of the Divine? Or do we pass up that opportunity, and
leave the world a bit colder in the process?....Please read this true life kthaa
anecdote by clicking on the next line....This posting was sent for sharing with
all of you by SRiimtii HNsaa chmpklaal misTRii
of Edmonton, Alberta, Canada....
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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 protégé 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 mom 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, I 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 protégé but that night I became a protégé...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.
This is especially meaningful to me since after serving in Desert Storm Robby
was killed in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in
Oklahoma City in April of 1995, where he was reportedly....playing the piano.
We all have thousands of opportunities a day to help realize God's plan. So many
seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do
we pass along a spark of the Divine? Or do we pass up that opportunity, and
leave the world a bit colder in the process?
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