An old man is approached by a young man who asks, “Do you remember me?”
The old man replies, “No, I’m sorry, I don’t.”
The young man then explains, “I was your student once.”
Intrigued, the old man asks, “What do you do now? What have you made of your life?”
With a smile, the young man responds, “I’m a teacher.”
“Ah, how wonderful!” the old man says. “Like me?”
“Yes,” the young man replies. “In fact, I became a teacher because you inspired me.”
The old man, curious, asks, “And when did you decide to follow this path?”
The young man shares a story:
“One day, during class, a friend of mine had a beautiful new watch. I wanted it so badly that I stole it from his pocket.
When he realized it was missing, he went to you and told you what had happened. You addressed the class, saying, ‘Someone’s watch has been stolen. Whoever took it, please return it.’
I didn’t return it because I didn’t want to. So, you locked the door and asked all of us to stand in a circle. You said you would search our pockets one by one to find the watch.
But then you added something: you asked us all to close our eyes. You said you would only search if everyone’s eyes were shut.
We did as you instructed. You went from pocket to pocket, and when you found the watch in mine, you took it. But you didn’t stop there. You kept searching every pocket until you had checked everyone.
When you finished, you said, ‘Open your eyes. The watch has been found.’
You never revealed who had taken it. You never mentioned the incident again. You didn’t scold me, humiliate me, or even pull me aside to lecture me.
That day, I felt the weight of my shame. But more importantly, I understood your lesson. You protected my dignity, even when I didn’t deserve it.
It was that moment that changed me. I decided I would never steal again. I decided I would strive to be a better person. And I decided I wanted to become a teacher, just like you.
The old man listens quietly before responding, “I remember the situation with the stolen watch. But I don’t remember you, because I closed my eyes too.”
The old man smiles gently and adds, “This is the essence of teaching:
If correcting someone requires humiliation, then you do not know how to teach.”