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To: Dubya

“For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light.” Ephesians 5:8

STUDENT TEACHES THE TEACHER

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, 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 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.

POSITIVE DAILY PRAYER:

I pray that I am friendly to all and a burden to no one.
Let my manner always be courteous,
my forgiveness willing,
my promises true,
and my speech wise.
In Jesus Christ name.
Amen


74 posted on 09/03/2011 3:57:59 AM PDT by Dubya (JESUS SAVES)
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To: Jim Robinson; JustAmy; Billie; MEG33; jaycee; dutchess; GodBlessUSA; deadhead; LUV W; mathluv; ...

Freep mail me to be on or off the Daily Bread ping list

The Need For Tears
September 3, 2011

Following the 2010 earthquake in Haiti, we were all overwhelmed by the images of devastation and hardship endured by the people of that tiny nation. Of the many heartbreaking pictures, one captured my attention. It showed a woman staring at the massive destruction—and weeping. Her mind could not process the suffering of her people, and as her heart was crushed, tears poured from her eyes. Her reaction was understandable. Sometimes crying is the only appropriate response to the suffering we encounter.

As I examined that picture, I thought of the compassion of our Lord. Jesus understood the need for tears, and He too wept. But He wept over a different kind of devastation—the destruction brought on by sin. As He approached Jerusalem, marked by corruption and injustice and the pain they create, His response was tears. “Now as He drew near, He saw the city and wept over it” (Luke 19:41). Jesus wept out of compassion and grief.

As we encounter the inhumanity, suffering, and sin that wreak havoc in our world, how do we respond? If the heart of Christ breaks over the broken condition of our world, shouldn’t ours? And shouldn’t we then do everything we can to make a difference for those in need, both spiritually and physically?

Lord, when I learn that someone is hurting,
Help me know what to do and to say;
Speak to my heart and give me compassion,
Let Your great love flow through me today. —K. De Haan

Compassion offers whatever is necessary
to heal the hurts of others.

Read: Luke 19:37-44

As He drew near, He saw the city and wept over it. —Luke 19:41
Bible in a year:
Psalms 140-142; 1 Corinthians 14:1-20


75 posted on 09/03/2011 7:34:37 AM PDT by The Mayor ("If you can't make them see the light, let them feel the heat" — Ronald Reagan)
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To: Dubya

Blurry screen!Thanks for this and the funnies, too.
I pray for strength and healing during this difficult treatment time, (((Dubya)))


87 posted on 09/03/2011 1:29:32 PM PDT by MEG33 (God Bless Our Military Men And Women)
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To: Dubya

Powerful story, Dubya.
Thank you for sharing it.
Now I gotta get a roll of Bounty...Kleenex won’t do the job this time.


93 posted on 09/03/2011 2:53:46 PM PDT by Diver Dave (Because He Lives, I Can Face Tomorrow)
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To: Dubya

AMEN! Thank you for this story!


94 posted on 09/03/2011 4:41:20 PM PDT by tiapam (One Nation Under God !)
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