sometimes it just clicks

She sits there on the creaky cane-bottomed chair. Every week she welcomes, one-by-one, young students coming through the door and plopping down on the piano bench.

Some are eager and excited to show off what they have practiced. Others are quiet and tense, waiting for the question to be asked, "How much practicing did you do this week?"

It's a question that both the student and the teacher dread. If the student hasn't touched the keys in seven days, then the lesson will drag on for an eternity--getting nowhere--knowing that the same songs will be repeated another week. Sometimes many more weeks.

But on this particular Wednesday, Adam came to his lesson with an unexpected surprise. He had actually practiced TWICE this week (four is the minimum requirement by the teacher, but she is thrilled with two from Adam.)

He knows he is ready this time. He knows that his teacher will smile and give lots of well-deserved compliments. He knows he will earn extra points toward a candy bar or bottle of pop. He's ready.

The first song, "The Greatest Show on Earth," starts off a little weak, but as he continues, his confidence builds. Only a handful of mistakes and he quickly figures out his errors. Next, "Fox and Goose," a favorite of Adam's because of its spooky minor tune. Nailed it. Big smiles.

Finally the hardest one, "Indian Teepee." Where to put his fingers? Where to find those unfamiliar notes? A little guidance by the teacher and it starts to click. He makes it to the end and knows he did it. It wasn't perfect, but it was darn good.

The teacher sits back and gives Adam a huge nod of accomplishment. After teaching for 20 years, these little moments make it all worth the time and effort. She's a little sad that she is retiring when sometimes it just starts to click.