The Piano Teacher Who Never Gave Up

Margaret Chen taught piano for forty-one years from a small studio on Maple Street in Savannah, Georgia. Her students knew two things about Mrs. Chen: she never raised her voice, and she never let you settle for sloppy fingering.

When eight-year-old David slammed through a Chopin piece, rushing past wrong notes, she didn't scold him. She placed her hand gently over his and said, "Again. Slower this time. You're better than that." When he slouched at the bench, she didn't bark commands. She'd sit beside him, straighten her own posture, and whisper, "Like this. You'll feel the difference." Over months and years, her patient correction reshaped how David sat, how he listened, how he practiced when no one was watching.

Decades later, David — now a concert pianist — told an interviewer, "Mrs. Chen's kindness wasn't permissive. It was the most demanding force I've ever known. Her grace expected everything from me, precisely because she believed I had it to give."

That is the picture Paul paints in Titus 2. The grace of God has appeared — not as a stern drill sergeant, but as a patient, unwavering teacher. And this grace instructs us, trains us, reshapes our very posture toward life. It teaches us to say no to what diminishes us and yes to the self-controlled, upright life we were created for. Grace doesn't lower the bar. Grace sits beside us at the bench and says, "Again. You're better than that."