Piano prodigy Ryan Wang hosted a special private concert for a very special admirer, 101-year-old Dorothy Landry, several months after dazzling audiences on “The Ellen Show” and performed at the esteemed Carnegie Hall. Ryan performed a touching recital of “Variations on an Inner Mongolian Folk Song” exclusively for Landry at the age of five, organized by Canadian digital music distributor CBC Music.
Dorothy, who has been a fan of Ryan’s since he was three, was unable to fully enjoy the performance at one of his previous concerts because of hearing issues. CBC Music realized this and arranged a private concert to provide her with a more intimate musical experience.
The small scene showed Dorothy in her wheelchair with Ryan sitting next to her, his feet hanging above the floor and his hands gripping a big teddy bear, both signs of his youth. Both of them were obviously moved by the concert; Ryan expressed how much he enjoyed performing for “Grandma Dorothy” and how it made her happy.
In return, Dorothy called Ryan a “very special little person” and expressed excitement about his upcoming performances.
She expressed her gratitude to Ryan and sincerely asked that he come see her again following his impending trip to China. This special musical relationship emphasizes the value of generational relationships and the universality of music.
I Decided to Teach My Stepson a Lesson When I Got Tired of Him Littering Everywhere
A couple of weeks ago, I finally moved in with my husband, which was supposed to be the beginning of a wonderful chapter in our lives. I had no idea that my husband’s 15-year-old son from a previous marriage, named Dave, would prove to be a difficult obstacle to overcome. Though I knew there would be some period of adaptation, I did not expect such an attitude towards my efforts to make the house our cozy place in the form of piles of garbage that Dave, as if on purpose, left scattered throughout the house.
At first, I thought it was a temporary situation, perhaps a teenager’s version of chaos. But days turned into weeks, and the mess only seemed to grow. Empty chip bags, crumpled papers, and discarded clothes adorned every corner of our once-pristine home. It was as if a tornado of teenage negligence had swept through, leaving behind a debris field that would shock even a loving mother.
My comments and requests for cleanliness had no effect on him at all. It was like talking to a wall. I wanted to stop this and somehow decided to act outside the box.
One day, when Dave left for school, I came up with a plan. I was going to defeat this trash invasion, which required a strategy that went beyond mere words. Wandering around the house, armed with trash bags and determination, I picked up every piece of clutter that had settled into our home. I was on a mission to teach Dave a lesson in responsibility.
His room, the center of chaos, was my first target. When I walked in, I was greeted by clothes strewn across the floor, a maze of crumpled papers, and a collection of half-empty soda cans. Without pleasure, but with a feeling of determination, I began to put all the items that were scattered in garbage bags. Papers, cans, his clothes, everything was packed into the bags together. In the end, the room gradually turned from a disaster zone into something resembling order. I packed all the scattered clothes with other trash in a bags.
A similar fate befell the living room, kitchen, and even the bathroom. It was a time-consuming task, but I was sure that if words could not reach him, perhaps these bags would show him how much of a mess he left behind.
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