I’ve been giving piano lessons for over 30 years to earn a little extra. During that time, I had the opportunity to work with children of different levels of abilities and assumptions. I have never discovered a real genius, but I taught a number of talented children.
On the other hand, I also met a number of pupils, whom I call a ‘teacher’s challenge’. Robby was one of them. Robby lived only with his mother and was already 11 when she first brought him to my class. I’m convinced that students should start the piano much earlier, and I explained that to Robby.
But Robby, on the other hand, explained to me that his mother’s big dream is to hear her son playing the piano. And so I started teaching him. From the beginning, however, I had the impression that it was a futile effort. Robby tried very hard, but he had no sense of rhythm or tone length, which is essential for playing a musical instrument. However, he himself honestly played the scales and etudes that I practice with all students – beginners.
And so the months went. Robby tried while I listened and suffered quietly and tried to encourage him. At the end of each weekly class he always said: ‘Mom will hear me play one day!’
It seemed hopeless to me. He just didn’t have it in him. I only knew his mother by sight when she brought Robby or waited for him after an hour in their old, battered car. She always waved and smiled at me, but she never started talking to me.
One day Robby didn’t come to class. I thought for a moment that I would call him, but then I decided that due to the lack of talent, he probably decided to do something that he would do better. I was actually quite relieved when he stopped walking. He wasn’t exactly the best calling card for me!
A few weeks later, I sent all the students information about the upcoming performance for parents. Robby also got the mail and contacted me asking if he could also perform. I was quite surprised. I told him that the upcoming concert was only for the current students and since he stopped coming, I can’t let him perform.
Robby explained to me that his mother was sick and couldn’t drive him to class, but that he was still working out. ‘Teacher, I really have to play! Please!’ I don’t know what led me to allow him to participate in the concert for my parents. Maybe because of his stubbornness, maybe because some kind of inner voice told me that it would be okay.
That big evening came. The school gymnasium was full of parents, acquaintances and relatives. I put Robby at the very end of the program, before my thanks to the students and my own number. I thought that this way I would best be able to correct the impression of his miserable performance.
Everything went smoothly that evening. The children practiced diligently and it showed. Then Robby came on stage. his clothes were wrinkled and his hair was messy. Why didn’t he dress decently, like the other kids? I thought. Why didn’t his mother see him a little? Why didn’t she at least tell him to do his hair?
Robby pulled up a stool and started playing. I was surprised when he announced that he had chosen Mozart’s concert No. 21 in C minor. And I was even less prepared for what I would hear. Robby’s fingers ran lightly and of course on the keys. He moved from Pianissimo to Fortissimo, from Allegro to Virtuoso. The rhythm and power of the tone required by Mozart’s compositions were beautiful! Perfect! I’ve never heard anyone his age play Mozart so well.
He ended up after six and a half minutes with a massive crescen, and the whole gym jumped up and started clapping. I ran in tears to the stage and hugged Robby. ‘Robby, you’ve never played this amazingly! How did you do it?’
And Robby spoke into the microphone: ‘You know, teacher, how I told you that mom was sick? She had cancer and died this morning. And, you know…,’ He stopped. ‘She was deaf from birth, so today she could hear me for the first time. I wanted it to be worth it.’
Everyone’s eyes were shining in the hall. When people from the social department took Robby to a nursing family, I saw that they too were moved. I thought how immensely it enriched me that I accepted Robby as my student.
No, I never discovered a real piano genius, but that night I got a brilliant lesson from Robby. He was a teacher and I was his student. Because it was he who showed me the true meaning of persistence and love and faith in myself, and maybe also why not give up on a person, even if he actually seems hopeless.
Every day we are offered countless opportunities to help realize God’s intentions. There are so many seemingly banal moments, contacts between two people who give us a choice: will we let the opportunity pass, and so let’s make this world a little colder? Or will we take advantage of the opportunity and let the spark of God’s love shine?
