The story of ruby

Because of my friends' encouragement, I am writing this story. My name is Mildred Honore and I am a former music teacher at the Desmuise Elementary School in Iowa.

Over the years, I taught private piano lessons to supplement my income. Something I've done for 30 years.

During those years I saw that there were children on different musical levels, and I had the pleasure of teaching some very talented children.

However, there are also some that I call "musical challenges." That was Robbie.

Robbie was 11 years old when his mother (a single mother) took him down at the entrance to my home for his first piano class. I prefer students, especially boys, to start earlier, and so I explained to Robbie. But he said it was always his mother's dream to hear him play the piano, so I took him as a student.

As soon as Robbie began to learn, I realized that it was an effort without hope. The more he tried, no matter how much he tried, the more he stressed how much he had the basic rhythm and sensitivity to tones. But he was diligent and tried hard, I could not help but encourage him. I tried, though it seemed hopeless, if only to show that there was a point to the effort.

At the end of each class he would say, "One day my mother will hear me playing," but to me it would seem impossible. He did not have the basic ability, he was not born with minimal talent for music.

I saw his mother from a distance when she dropped Ruby near my house or waited for him in her car. She always waved goodbye and smiled, but never entered.

One day Ruby stopped attending classes, I thought to call him but I admit I was glad he stopped coming, he was a bad advertisement for my teaching ability.

A few hours later I sent an invitation to a performance by all my students. To my surprise, Ruby, who had received the flyer, asked if he could show up.

I told him that the concert was for students who played with me, and that it was not coming, so it was not possible.

He told me that his mother was sick and could not take him to piano lessons.

But he promised he'd practiced a lot, "Please, ma'am, let me play," he insisted. I do not know what led me to let him appear, if it was his insistence on something inside me that told me it would be all right.

On the evening of the performance, the students arrived with their parents, relatives and friends. I put Robbie at the end of the performance, and I thought that even if his appearance was bad, and so I expected her to be, I would immediately talk to her and I would save the situation.

The performance began without any mishap, it was a great stream, the students played wonderfully. Then Robbie came onstage.

His clothes were wrinkled, his hair looked as if he had been swamped with eggshells and whispered in the crowd, "Why did not his mother brush his hair on such a special night?"

Robbie sat down in front of the piano and I was surprised when he chose to play the Concerto no. 21 of Mozart in C major.

I was not ready for what my ears heard.

His fingers moved elegantly on the piano, they seemed to dance quickly and he moved from Finanissimo to Fortissimo, and from allegro to virtuoso, he made Mozart chords sound like their masterpiece.

I never heard Mozart so exciting from a child his age.

After six and a half minutes he finished with a big crescendo and everyone was on his feet with wild applause. I overcame the tears and ran to embrace Ruby with joy. "I never heard you playing this way, how did you do it?"

Through the microphone, Robbie explained: "The truth is, Madam, remember when I told you that my mother was sick?

She was really sick and died this morning of cancer. She was born deaf so tonight for the first time she could hear me playing, and I wanted to do it special. "

There was not one eye in the audience that remained dry. The welfare people took Ruby from the stage to his foster family, I noticed that their eyes were red and swollen too, I thought to myself how much my life had been enriched by the fact that I took Ruby as a student.

I had never been admired, but from that evening I became an admirer ... of Ruby.

He was the teacher and I was the student, he taught me the meaning of love, perseverance and belief in yourself.

Robbie was killed a few years later in the unprovoked attack of Alfred F. Murray in the Federal Building of Oklahoma, in April 1995.

Now, it is important: Are you working hard to fulfill your dream? Do you bother about the opportunities that come your way? Are you giving up too fast?

I hope Robbie will affect you at least as much as he has on the subject.