The Piano Teacher Who Stayed After the Recital

In 1987, a piano teacher named Margaret Ellison in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, watched her student David — a twelve-year-old with a stutter and hands that shook before every performance — freeze three bars into a Chopin nocturne at his first recital. The audience shifted uncomfortably. David's fingers hovered above the keys like birds afraid to land.

Margaret did not rush to the bench. She simply leaned forward from the front row and whispered, loud enough for David alone: "You already know this piece. Your hands remember what your fear forgot."

David closed his eyes. He started again. He played it through — imperfectly, yes, with one wrong note in the middle section — but he played it through.

What Margaret gave David in that moment was not a lesson. It was something older and deeper: encouragement that did not depend on the outcome. She had already decided he was worth believing in before he touched the first key.

Paul's benediction in 2 Thessalonians 2:16-17 names God as exactly this kind of presence — the One who loved us first and by grace gave us "eternal encouragement and good hope." Not encouragement that expires when we stumble. Not hope contingent on flawless performance. The Almighty Himself steadies our hands and strengthens us in every good deed and word. He has already decided we are worth believing in. Our part is simply to begin playing again.