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Article Time Stamp: 03 April 2004, 21:53:48 GMT+7
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+++ ENGLISH LANGUAGE +++
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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 protégé
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 moms 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 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 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 alright.

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' 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?" 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 placedinto 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
protégé but that night I became a protégé... 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.

This is especially meaningful to me since after serving in Desert Storm,
Robby was killed in the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in
Oklahoma City in April of 1995, where he was reportedly.... playing the
piano.



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+++ BAHASA INDONESIA +++
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Saya seorang mantan guru sekolah musik dari Des Moines, Iowa. Saya mendapat
nafkah dengan mengajar piano -- selama lebih dari 30 tahun. Selama itu, saya
menyadari tiap anak punya kemampuan musik yang berbeda. Tapi saya tidak
pernah merasa telah menolong walaupun saya telah mengajar beberapa murid
berbakat.

Walaupun begitu, saya ingin bercerita tentang murid yang "tertantang secara
musik". Contohnya adalah Robby.

Robby berumur 11 tahun, ketika ibunya memasukkan dia dalam les untuk pertama
kalinya. Saya lebih senang kalau murid (khususnya laki-laki) mulai ketika
lebih muda, saya jelaskan itu pada Robby. Tapi Robby berkata, ibunya selalu
ingin mendengar dia bermain piano. Jadi saya jadikan dia murid.

Robby memulai les pianonya dan dari awal saya pikir dia tidak ada harapan.
Robby mencoba, tapi dia tak mempunyai perasaan nada maupun irama dasar yang
perlu dipelajari. Tapi dia mempelajari benar-benar tangga nada dan beberapa
pelajaran awal yang saya wajibkan untuk dipelajari semua murid.

Selama beberapa bulan, dia mencoba terus dan saya mendengarnya dengan ngeri
dan terus mencoba menyemangatinya. Setiap akhir pelajaran mingguannya, dia
berkata, "Ibu saya akan mendengar saya bermain pada suatu hari."

Tapi rasanya sia-sia saja. Dia memang tak berkemampuan sejak lahir. Saya
hanya mengetahui ibunya dari jauh ketika menurunkan Robby atau menjemput
Robby. Dia hanya tersenyum dan melambaikan tangan tapi tidak pernah turun.

Pada suatu hari, Robby tidak datang lagi ke les kami. Saya berpikir untuk
menghubunginya, tapi karena ketidakmampuannya, mungkin dia mau les yang lain
saja. Saya juga senang dia tidak datang lagi. Dia menjadi iklan yang buruk
untuk pengajaran saya!

Beberapa minggu sesudahnya, saya mengirimkan brosur ke tiap murid, mengenai
pertunjukan yang akan dilaksanakan. Yang mengagetkan saya, Robby (yang juga
menerima brosur) menanyakan saya apakah dia bisa ikut pertunjukan itu. Saya
katakan kepadanya, pertunjukan itu untuk murid yang ada sekarang dan karena
dia telah keluar, tentu dia tak bisa ikut. Dia katakan bahwa ibunya sakit
sehingga tak bisa mengantarnya ke les, tapi dia tetap terus berlatih. "Bu
Hondrof... saya mau main!" dia memaksa. Saya tidak tahu apa yang membuat
saya akhirnya membolehkan dia main di pertunjukan itu. Mungkin karena
kegigihannya atau mungkin ada sesuatu yang berkata dalam hati saya bahwa dia
akan baik-baik saja.

Malam pertunjukan datang. Aula itu dipenuhi dengan orang tua, teman, dan
relasi. Saya menaruh Robby pada urutan terakhir sebelum saya ke depan untuk
berterima kasih dan memainkan bagian terakhir. Saya rasa kesalahan yang dia
buat akan terjadi pada akhir acara dan saya bisa menutupinya dengan
permainan dari saya.

Pertunjukan itu berlangsung tanpa masalah. Murid-murid telah berlatih dan
hasilnya bagus. Lalu Robby naik ke panggung. Bajunya kusut dan rambutnya
bagaikan baru dikocok. "Kenapa dia tak berpakaian seperti murid lainnya?"
pikir saya. "Kenapa ibunya tidak menyisir rambutnya setidaknya untuk malam
ini?"

Robby menarik kursi piano dan mulai. Saya terkejut ketika dia menyatakan
bahwa dia telah memilih Mozart's Concerto #21 in C Major. Saya tidak dapat
bersiap untuk mendengarnya.

Jarinya ringan di tuts nada, bahkan menari dengan gesit. Dia berpindah dari
pianossimo ke fortissimo... dari allegro ke virtuoso. Akord tergantungnya
yang diinginkan Mozart sangat mengagumkan! Saya tak pernah mendengar lagu
Mozart dimainkan orang seumur dia sebagus itu!

Setelah enam setengah menit, dia mengakhirinya dengan crescendo besar dan
semua terpaku disana dengan tepuk tangan yang meriah. Dalam air mata, saya
naik ke panggung dan memeluk Robby dengan sukacita.

"Saya belum pernah mendengar kau bermain seperti itu, Robby! Bagaimana kau
melakukannya?"

Melalui pengeras suara Robby menjawab, "Bu Hondorf... ingat saya berkata
bahwa ibu saya sakit? Ya, sebenarnya dia sakit kanker dan dia telah berlalu
pagi ini. Dan sebenarnya... dia tuli sejak lahir jadi hari inilah dia
pertama kali mendengar saya bermain. Saya ingin bermain secara khusus."

Tidak ada satu pun mata yang kering malam itu. Ketika orang-orang dari
Layanan sosial membawa Robby dari panggung ke ruang pemeliharaan, saya
menyadari meskipun mata mereka merah dan bengkak, betapa hidup saya jauh
lebih berarti karena mengambil Robby sebagai murid saya.

Tidak, saya tidak pernah menjadi penolong, tapi malam itu saya menjadi orang
yang ditolong Robby. Dialah gurunya dan sayalah muridnya. Karena dialah yang
mengajarkan saya arti ketekunan, kasih, percaya pada dirimu sendiri, dan
bahkan mau memberi kesempatan pada seseorang yang tak anda ketahui mengapa.

Peristiwa ini semakin berarti ketika, setelah bermain di Desert Storm, Robby
terbunuh oleh pengeboman yang tak masuk akal oleh Alfred P. Murrah Federal
Building di Oklahoma pada April 1995, dimana dilaporkan... dia sedang main
piano.


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