Now is the Time to Appreciate the People Who Have Helped You

Editor’s Note: This is a contribution by Anne Sophie Reinhardt
“No duty is more urgent than that of returning thanks.” -James Allen
Recently, my mom told me that my beloved piano teacher had passed on. She had reached a high age and died peacefully in her sleep. This news, delivered to me via Facebook, hit me harder than I could have prepared myself for.
Sitting there in front of my computer, I remembered the circumstances of my meeting her. Originally, it was because my sister wanted to learn how to play piano.
It was by pure chance that I decided to go with her for her first lesson and I instantly fell in love with the teacher. She was the same age as my grandma, which was great because back then younger people terrified me. We hit it off right away.
I must have been around thirteen years old back then and I was in a really dark place of my young life. My eating disorder, which I had developed at the age of about ten, was starting to get more serious.
I lost weight rapidly and my exercising got out of hand. I was a shadow of myself and I was terribly insecure and weary of life.
Spending one hour a week with this unusually large, brilliant lady was like my sanctuary. When I closed the door of her tiny piano room, I knew I was in a safe place.
She listened to me when no one else did. If I showed you my piano skills today, you’d agree with me that we probably talked more than we practiced playing. Being with her was like the counseling I desperately needed.
I treasured each and every moment with her. I was more open to her about my anorexia, about my problems with the family, and my terrifying fear of my brother than I had ever been with somebody else. I trusted her. No matter how caught up I was in my illness, I never skipped a lesson.
Then, I went to the US and our ways separated. Over the years, I would hear frequent updates of how she was doing and I would send her the occasional letter.
When driving by her house, I would make a mental note to schedule some time for a visit sometime in the future. I never did.
My piano teacher had often told me that she had seen the vulnerability in my eyes and my posture when we first met. She saw that I was a broken soul and she knew that she was there to guide me and to help me through some of the hardest years of my life. Click Here to Read More…









by Lori Deschene


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