Neither David nor his father realized what was in store for them when they decided that David should enter a music contest that was announced over the radio. Boys and girls between ten and thirteen were to compete for three scholarships at one of the best music schools in the country. The requirement was that they were to play an original composition on a commercially sponsored radio program. David did not think that he had a chance to win, but his piano teacher encouraged him to enter the competition.

All David's classmates in the Yeshiva were rooting for him when the evening of the contest arrived. Shmuel Glantz came home earlier than usual to accompany his wife and son to the radio studio. Cohen David's turn came to step up to the beautiful baby grand piano to play before the audience which included several well known musicians who served as judges, his father was even more excited than David himself. Despite his anxiety and tenseness, he smiled encouragingly to his son who with his large velvet yarmulke looked so different from the other children. When the announced said that David Glantz would play a Fantasia dedicated to the Jewish heroes of old, one little girl began to giggle and others laughed outright.

But David did not see or hear their sneers and snickers. From time to time he looked at his father, whose eyes flashed encouragement. In his mind, he heard his father's voice narrating a tale, and visualized the hero of one of the many episodes of Jewish suffering and glory many centuries ago. When David had finished his piece, even the cool and composed announcer had to wait a moment before he could break the spell which the imaginative of Fantasia had cast over the audience as his fingers translated his father's story into music.

It came as no surprise to the audience in the studio, to the thousands who listened to the program on the radio at home, nor even to his competitors, when the first scholarship was awarded to young David Glantz. A representative of the radio program described the illustrious career the could be his. He informed them about the four year course of study at the music school and about the future financial aid by the sponsor of the radio program who was overwhelmed by David's composition.

When discussing the award at home, Shmuel Glantz and his wife realized that in order to attend the conservatory their son would have to give up his Yeshiva studies. That night Shmuel could not sleep. Here was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But, on the other hand, it was unthinkable that his son should sacrifice his Torah studies for a career in music. Shmuel Glantz considered some form of compromise, like hiring a private Rebbe for David to teach him Gemoroh in the evenings. But Shmuel knew that this was not the proper solution of the problem; once David was out of the Yeshiva, he would never be as enthusiastic about his learning as hereto fore. And even if he did learn every day, he would not be in the warm atmosphere of the Yeshiva which would exert a better influence over him than the best conservatory in the world. Finally, his wife suggested that they leave the decision up to David. True, they would rather see him continue his studies at the Yeshiva, but if David had his mind set on accepting the scholarship, he would not learn so well anyway.

The next evening, Shmuel asked David to accompany him on an errand. He wisely incorporated his predicament into a story of ancient times, and asked David what he would do if he were in such a situation. David immediately understood what his father was alluding to although the lad in the story was living in ancient Rome and had been offered a scholarship at the Imperial Academy. It did not take David very long to get over the feeling of regret and disappointment and to suggest that he continue his Torah studies at the Yeshiva at least until he mastered them sufficiently to be able to study on his own. His music would have to play second fiddle for a while.

The sponsor of the radio program was surprised when he was visited by David and his father. Generally, he tried to avoid those whom he sponsored; he liked neither their expression of overflowing gratitude nor their humility. But he was even more amazed when he heard the purpose of the visit. David told him of the difficulty he would have in pursuing his Torah studies and music simultaneously. He explained that he decided to give up this exceptional opportunity to study at the conservatory, rather than his Torah studies at the Yeshiva. The man looked long and hard at the dark, rather frail boy. Then he turned to Shmuel Glantz and asked him whether he, too, was willing to pass up such an unusual opportunity to make a great artist of his son for the sake of some "unproductive studies of ancient religious literature." Shmuel Glantz was a simple and humble man. At that moment, however, he elevated himself far beyond his usual self and eloquently explained to the man that no sacrifice was too hard when it concerned his son's soul. He wanted David to remain his child, the son of a simple Jewish peddler, rather than a brilliant, successful musician, at the expense of the ideals which his father stood for. He told the man that he was proud that his son had the moral courage to make this decision that might mean the end of his dreams of a musical career, rather than weakening his faith.

Shmuel Glantz was sure that the man would never understand what he was trying to say. But he was mistaken. His eloquent words, expressed clearly and with determination, evoked memories that reached far into the man's past, to a small Polish village, only superficially different from Shmuel Glantz' East Side. Suddenly these memories, which the sponsor of the radio program had buried in his subconscious long ago, were reawakened. His own father was not much different from and spoke the same language as this poor, shabbily dressed peddler. He reflected upon his own dreams and struggles and the decisions which he made, and where they had led him. After what seemed like an eternity, he broke his silence and congratulated Shmuel Glantz and David for their courage and faith.

"The scholarship will be waiting for your son when you are ready to permit him to devote his full time to music. And while he continues to learn at the Yeshiva, permit me to pay for a private teacher who will see to it that he comes prepared for the tough competition of the world of music."