Originally Posted by
DarkSkies
Surfstix, your daughter has that raw ability, the natural talent, that someone needs to succeed artistically. What she does with it is up to her.
I think to myself, if only they had pushed a little harder, they could have had different lives. If your daughter ever doubts her abilities, please show her this thread. I hope she doesn't give up. She definitely has the raw talent she needs to really make something of herself, if she's willing to also cultivate the connections and be persistent.
The best of luck to her.
Surfstix, I was searching for a non-HTML version of an e-mail you sent me so I could post it. Came across this. Kinda corny, but still an inspiration. Thought I would post it here, if ya didn't mind.
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 Des Moines, 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 endeavour. 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
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?
...for if God didn't have a purpose for us, we wouldn't be here!