This is as true story told by Mildred Honor, a music teacher from Des Moines, Iowa.

She accepted Robby, a 11 year old, as a new student.  Robby said that it had always been his mother’s dream to hear him play the piano.  At the end of each weekly lesson, he would say, “My mom is going to hear me play some day.” But to the teacher, it seemed hopeless, Robby had no inborn ability.  Mrs. Honor only knew Robby’s mother from a distance as she dropped him 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. Mrs. Honor assumed it was because of his lack of ability.
Several weeks later the music teacher sent out a flyer telling of a recital to be conducted.  It surprised Mrs. Honor when Robby showed up asking to be in the recital.  He was told that since he had dropped out of practice, that he wasn’t qualified.

But, Robby insisted, saying that his mother had been sick and unable to take him to his piano lesson, but that he had been practicing.  His insistence caused Mrs. Honor to allow him to play in the recital.
The night of the recital came and the high school gymnasium was packed with parents, relatives and friends. Robby was placed last on the program,  just in case he was not very good, it would not spoil the whole evening.
Well, the recital went off without a hitch, everyone did well.  Then Robby came to 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?  Why didn’t his mother see to it that he looked more presentable on this special night?

Robby pulled out the piano bench and announced to the teacher’s surprise that he had chosen to play Mozart’s Concerto no. 21 in C Major.  His fingers were light on the keys, they even danced nimbly on the ivories.  He went from Pianissimo to Fortissimo, rom Allegro to Virtuoso; his suspended cords that Mozart demands were magnificent. Never had a child his age played any better. After six and a half minutes, he ended in a grand crescendo, and everyone was on their feet in wild applause.   Overcome with tears, the teacher, Mrs. Honor, ran up on the stage and put her arms around Robby in joy.

She said, “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 died 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.  Robby was killed years later in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April, 1995.

This story touched me and I hope it moved you too.  In Christ, we are made whole.  The old is done away with and the new will be the order of the day.  Thank God.


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