HONOR YOUR FATHER AND MOTHER, THAT YOUR DAYS MAY BE LONG ON THE LAND WHICH THE LORD YOUR GOD IS GIVING YOU. (EXODUS 20:12 NKJV)

Hello Steemians,

  As we all know the top verse is one of the Ten Commandments. So I would like to share with you a message I received from someone. Then you will know why I used the verse when you read the message.  I hope that this will move you as it has me. So let us begin:

                                             Robby's Night:

 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 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 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 practising. "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.

 And now, a footnote to the story.   Where is Robby today? I am sorry to tell you that Robby was killed in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April of 1995.