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The HUSBAND Store

2007-08-09T15:13:00.000+08:00

WELCOME TO THE HUSBAND STORE:

A store that sells husbands has just opened in New York City, where a woman may go to choose a husband.

Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates. You may visit the store ONLY ONCE!

There are six floors and the attributes of the men increase as the shopper ascends the flights.

There is, however, a catch... you may choose any man from a particular floor, or you may choose to go up a floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building!

So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband... On the first floor the sign on the door reads:

Floor 1: These men have jobs and love the Lord. The second floor sign reads:
Floor 2: These men have jobs, love the Lord, and love kids. The third floor sign reads:
Floor 3: These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids and are extremely good looking.

"Wow," she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going. She goes to the fourth floor and sign reads:

Floor 4: These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop-dead good looking and help with the housework.

"Oh, mercy me!" she exclaims, "I can hardly stand it!" Still, she goes to the fifth floor and sign reads:

Floor 5: These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop-dead gorgeous, help with the housework, and have a strong romantic streak.

She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor and the sign reads:

Floor 6: You are visitor 4,363,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store. Watch your step as you exit the building, and have a nice day!

Please send this to all men for a good laugh and to all the women who can handle the truth!REMEMBER: Greed is one of the seven deadly sins.You have to learn to be grateful for what you have to get more. When you are ungrateful you end up with nothing.

Two Nuns

2007-08-09T15:02:00.000+08:00

There were two nuns. One of them was known as Sister Mathematical (SM), and the other one was known as Sister Logical (SL). It is getting dark and they are still far away from the convent.

SM: Have you noticed that a man has been following us for the past thirty-eight and a half minutes? I wonder what he wants.
SL: It's logical. He wants to rape us.

SM: Oh, no! At this rate he will reach us in 15 minutes at the most! What can we do?
SL: The only logical thing to do of course is to walk faster.

SM: It's not working.
SL: Of course it's not working. The man did the only logical thing. He started to walk faster, too.

SM: So, what shall we do? At this rate he will reach us in one minute.
SL: The only logical thing we can do is split. You go that way and I'll go this way. He cannot follow us both.

So the man decided to follow Sister Logical. Sister Mathematical arrives at the convent and is worried about what has happened to Sister Logical. Then Sister Logical arrives.

SM: Sister Logical! Thank God you are here! Tell me what happened!
SL: The only logical thing happened. The man couldn't follow us both, so he followed me.

SM: Yes, yes! But what happened then?
SL: The only logical thing happened. I started to run as fast as I could and he started to run as fast as he could.

SM: And?
SL: The only logical thing happened. He reached me.

SM: Oh, dear! What did you do?!
SL: The only logical thing to do. I lifted my dress up.

SM: Oh, Sister! What did the man do?
SL: The only logical thing to do. He pulled down his pants.

SM: Oh, no! What happened then?
SL: Isn't it logical, Sister? A nun with her dress up can run faster than a man with his pants down.

And for those of you who thought it would be dirty, I'll pray for you!

Two Travelling Angels

2007-08-09T14:54:00.000+08:00

Two travelling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family. The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion's guest room. Instead the angels were given a small space in the cold basement.

As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it. When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied, "Things aren't always what they seem."

The next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife. After sharing what little food they had the couple let the angels sleep in their bed where they could have a good night's rest.

When the sun came up the next morning the angels found the farmer and his wife in tears. Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole income, lay dead in the field. The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel how could you have let this happen?

The first man had everything, yet you helped him, he accused. The second family had little but was willing to share everything, and you let the cow die. "Things aren't always what they seem," the older angel replied.

"When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn't find it."

"Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I gave him the cow instead. Things aren't always what they seem."

Sometimes that is exactly what happens when things don't turn out the way they should. If you have faith, you just need to trust that every out come is always to your advantage. You just might not know it until some time later...

Have a laugh

2007-08-09T14:47:00.000+08:00

One day a little girl was sitting and watching her mother do the dishes at the kitchen sink. She suddenly noticed that her mother had several strands of white hair sticking out in contrast on her brunette head. She looked at her mother and inquisitively asked, "Why are some of your hairs white, Mom?" Her mother replied, "Well, every time that you do something wrong and make me cry or unhappy, one of my hairs turns white." The little girl thought about this revelation for a while and then said, "Momma, how come ALL of grandma's hairs are white?"

The children had all been photographed, and the teacher was trying to persuade them each to buy a copy of the group picture. "Just think how nice it will be to look at it when you are all grown up and say, 'There's Jennifer, she's a lawyer,' or 'That's Michael, He's a doctor.' A small voice at the back of the room rang out, "And there's the teacher, she's dead."

A teacher was giving a lesson on the circulation of the blood. Trying to make the matter clearer, she said, "Now, class, if I stood on my head, the blood, as you know, would run into it, and I would turn red in the face." "Yes," the class said."Then why is it that while I am standing upright in the ordinary position the blood doesn't run into my feet?"A little fellow shouted,"Cause your feet ain't empty."

The children were lined up in the cafeteria of a Catholic elementary school for lunch. At the head of the table was a large pile of apples. The nun made a note, and posted on the apple tray: "Take only ONE. God is watching."Moving further along the lunch line, at the other end of the table was a large pile of chocolate chip cookies. A child had written a note, "Take all you want. God is watching the apples.

Dust

2007-08-09T14:44:00.000+08:00

Be very careful when u get caught with dust

While he was talking he felt an eye irritation, thinking that it was just regular dust, he started to rub his eye, in an effort to remove the dust.... then his eyes got really red, and he went and bought some eye drops from a pharmacy....

Few days passed and his eyes were still red and seems a little swollen. Again he dismissed it as the constant rubbing and that it will go away The days go by the swelling of his eye got worse, redder and bigger....till he decided to go and see a doctor for a check up.

The doctor immediately wanted an operation, being afraid of a tumor growth or cyst. At the operation, what was thought to be a growth or cyst, actually turned out to be a live worm..... what was thought initially to be just mere dust actually was an insect's egg

If u do get caught dust, and the pain persists, pls go, see a doctor immediately........

Health News - About Sugar Cane drinks

2007-08-09T14:35:00.000+08:00

A friend whose father works for the government health inspection passed on this info. Their job is to inspect all hawkers, their cooked food, their store hygiene, etc. They found sugar cane juice has the highest content of bacteria among all food. In fact, it has exceeded the set limit.

Hence, these guys had to find out why. They went round all sugar cane stores and watched the way the hawkers handled their sugar cane, wash their glasses, their entire procedure.

But they couldn't find the problem.

One day, they stayed till closing time and discovered some shocking facts! Whenever, the hawkers closed their stores, they would wash the floor with detergent.

As we know, the remaining sugar canes will be placed at the back of the store, vertically standing and as sugar canes are very porous, they tend toabsorb whatever liquid around them.

Besides the soapy water, the dirt on hawkers' boots, cats' urine, etc, will all be absorbed! Now, whenever I eat at a hawker centre, I would warn all my friends aboutthis and of course, I stopped drinking my favourite sugar cane juice.

A friend, who loved sugar cane juice, was pregnant. She was always drinking sugar cane juice. Anyway she miscarried and the fetus was already like 6 or 7 months old, I think. When the doctors did an autopsy to find out why all of a sudden the fetus had died inside her, they found traces of some chemical substance, which was found in cat urine. Large traces of it.

While it would not be able to harm adults, it was extremely toxic to babies,what more a fetus? So they tried to determine how this cat urine thing could have ended up in the fetus.

This meant that it had to be digested by the mother, right? And the only logical conclusion they could come up with was that since these sugar cane juice stall holders just leave the canes lying around on the wet and dirtyfloor, it would not be impossible to think that stray cats could have peed on those sugar canes or near those sugar canes.

So think carefully the next time you order that favourite sugar cane juice!

Please pass this on to everyone you know.

Let's take action to make this world a better & safer place for ALL of us & the generations to come.

Carjacked!

2007-08-09T14:32:00.000+08:00

Do read this. This actually happened recently in KL

You walk across the parking lot, unlock your car and get inside. Then you lock all your doors, start the engine and shift into REVERSE, and you look into the rear-view mirror to back out of your parking space and you notice a piece of paper stuck to the middle of the rear window.

So, you shift into PARK, unlock your doors and jump out off your car to remove that paper (or whatever it is) that is obstructing your view.

When you reach the back of your car, that is when the car-jackers appear out of nowhere, jump into your car and take off!!! Your engine was running, you would have your purse in the car and they practically mow you down as they speed off in your car.

BE AWARE OF THIS NEW SCHEME THAT IS NOW BEING USED.

Just drive away and remove the paper that is stuck to your window LATER, and be thankful that you read this.

Hope you will forward this to friends and family especially to women! A purse contains all identification, and you certainly do NOT want someone getting your home address. They already HAVE your keys!

The Brick

2007-05-30T04:38:00.000+08:00

A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something.

As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door! He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown. The angry driver then jumped out of the car, grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against a parked car shouting, "What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are you doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?"

The young boy was apologetic. "Please, mister...please, I'm sorry but I didn't know what else to do," He pleaded. "I threw the brick because no one else would stop..." With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car. "It's my brother, "he said. "He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up."

Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, "Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me."

Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the wheelchair, then took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts. A quick look told him everything was going to be okay. "Thank you and may God bless you," the grateful child told the stranger. Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the boy push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home.

It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar. The damage was very noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message: "Don't go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention!" God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts. Sometimes when we don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at us. It's our choice to listen or not.

When You Divorce Me, Carry Me Out in Your Arms

2007-05-23T04:17:00.000+08:00

On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy. I was a strong and happy bridegroom.

This was the scene ten years ago. The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid; I went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were steadily increasing, the affection between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school. Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy.

But the calm life was more likely to be affected by unpredictable changes. Dew came into my life. It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment I bought for her. Dew said, you are the kind of man who best draws girls' eyeballs. Her words suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we were just married, my wife said, Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls. Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my wife. But I couldn't help doing so.

I moved Dew's hands aside and said you go to select some furniture, O.K.? I've got something to do in the company. Obviously she was unhappy, because I had promised to do it together with her. At the moment, the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind, although it used to be something impossible to me. However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt. Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner.

I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we watched TV together. Or, I was lounging before the computer, visualizing Dew's body. This was the means of my entertainment. One day I said to her in a slightly joking way, suppose we divorce, what will you do? She stared at me for a few seconds without a word. Apparently she believed that divorce was something too far away from her. I couldn't imagine how she would react once she got to know I was serious.

When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide something while talking to her. She seemed to have got some hint. She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes. Once again, Dew said to me, He Ning, divorce her, O.K.? Then we live together. I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more. When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. I've got something to tell you, I said. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.

Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the serious topic calmly. She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I'm serious. I avoided her question. This so-called answer made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man!

That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew. With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my heart. The womanwho had been living ten years with me would become a stranger one day. But I could not take back what I had said.

Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer.

Late that night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her writing something at the table. I fall asleep fast. When I woke up, I found she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again. She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me, but I was supposed to give her one month's time before divorce, and in the month's time we must live as normal a life as possible.

Her reason was simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she didn't want him to see our marriage was broken.

She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, He Ning, do you still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day? This question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I nodded and said, I remember. You carried me in your arms, she continued, so, I have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must carry me out from the bedroom to the door every morning.

I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to end her marriage romantically.

I told Dew about my wife's divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she does, she has to face the result of divorce, she said scornfully. Her words more or less made me feel uncomfortable. My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed.

We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, Let us start from today, don't tell our son. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for a bus, I drove to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse.

I realized that I hadn't looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles on her face. On the third day, she whispered to me, the outside garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass there.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The visualization of Dew became vague.

On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger. I didn't tell Dew about this. I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. I said to her, It seems not difficult to carry you now. She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried quite a few but could not find a suitable one.

Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was because she was thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I was stronger. I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again, I felt a sense of pain.

Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch her head. Our son came in at the moment. Dad, it's time to carry mum out. He said. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an essential part of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was afraid I would change my mind at the last minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, as if we came back to our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad.

On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. She said, actually I hope you will hold me in your arms until we are old. I held her tightly and said, both you and I didn't notice that our life lacked intimacy.

I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door. I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I won't divorce. I'm serious. She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my forehead. You got no fever. She said. I moved her hand off my head.

Sorry, Dew, I said, I can only say sorry to you, I won't divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of life, not because we didn't love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried her into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her until I am old. So I have to say sorry to you.

Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove to the office. When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I'll carry you out every morning until we are old.

Nail In The Fence

2007-05-18T14:19:00.000+08:00

Make sure you read all the way down to the last sentence. (Most importantly the last sentence.) There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His Father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence. The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.

Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper. The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence.

He said, "You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry, the wound is still there.

A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one. Friends are very rare jewels, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share words of praise and they always want to open their hearts to us."

Too Busy for a Friend

2007-05-07T14:38:00.000+08:00

One day a teacher asked her students to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name.
Then she told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.

It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the students left the room, each one handed in the papers.

That Saturday, the teacher wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and listed what everyone else had said about that individual.

On Monday she gave each student his or her list.

Before long, the entire class was smiling.

"Really?" she heard whispered. "I never knew that I meant anything to anyone!" and, "I didn't know others liked me so much." were most of the comments.

No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. She never knew if they discussed them after class with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose.

The students were happy with themselves and one another. That group of students moved on. Several years later, one of the students was killed in Vietnam and his teacher attended the funeral of that special student.

She had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. He looked so handsome, so mature. The church was packed with his friends.

One by one those who loved him took a last walk by the coffin.

The teacher was the last one to bless the coffin.

As she stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as pallbearer came up to her.

"Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked. She nodded: "Yes." Then he said: "Mark talked about you a lot."

After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates went together to a luncheon. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting to speak with his teacher.

"We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it."

Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times.

The teacher knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which she had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him.

"Thank you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said. "As you can see, Mark treasured it."

All of Mark's former classmates started to gather around. Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home."

Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album."

"I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in my diary."

Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her purse and showed her frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times, " Vicki said and without batting an eyelash, she continued: "I think we all saved our lists."

That's when the teacher finally sat down and cried. She cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.

The density of people in society is so thick that we forget that life will end one day. And we don't know when that one day will be.

So please, tell the people you love and care for, that they are special and important.

Tell them, before it is too late...

Robby's Night

2007-05-02T12:59:00.000+08:00

At the prodding of my friends, I am writing this story. 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 prodigy 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 endeavour. As much as Robby tried, he lacked the sense of tone and basic rhythmneeded 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 someday." 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 mother had been sick and unable to take him to piano lessons but he was still practising. "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 itwould 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 programme 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 practising and it showed. Then Robby came up on stage. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair looked like he'd run an eggbeater 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 placed into foster care, 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 prodigy but that night I became a prodigy... 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 may be even taking a chance in someone and you don't know why.

Robby was killed in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April of 1995. And now, a footnote to the story.