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 some day”。But it seemed hopeless.He just did not have any inborn ability.I only knew his mother from a distance as she droppedRobby 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 mom 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 werewrinkled and his hair looked like he’d run an egg-beater 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？”