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Hankie alert Robby's Night

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> You might know, this one got to us... You never know the influence you may

> have on or for others. Sometimes, just when you think it's a hopeless cause

> and want to give up on someone or something,

> that you suddenly discover that it may have all been in God's plan, and

> maybe..., just maybe, you have made a difference after all.

>

>

> This is truly worth the minute it takes to read it.

> Robby's Night

> 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 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.

>

>

>

>

>

> 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.

>

>

>

>

>

> If you are thinking about forwarding this message, you are probably thinking

> about which people on your address list aren't the " appropriate " ones to

> receive this type of message. The person who sent this to you believes that we

> can all make a difference. 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?

>

>

>

>

>

> You have two choices now:

>

>

>

>

>

> 1. Delete this.

>

>

>

>

> 2. Forward it to the people you care about.

>

>

>

> You know the choice I made. Thank you for reading this

>

> May God bless you today tomorrow and always

>

>

>

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