A Lesson in Humility
November 19th, 2007 by BJB
As a special needs teacher I sometimes have the opportunity to work with a student for a number of years. Such was the case with Dario. Dario came to my class in grade one and I had the privilege of working with him and his remarkable parents right through his 4th grade year. He was a beautiful boy, both inside and out. Of Chilean descent, he had an abundance of jet black hair and large, liquid brown eyes.
He came to my class with a diagnosis of Oppositional Defiance Disorder as well as significant learning delays. I never understood the Oppositional Defiance Disorder label. True, he tested the limits when he first joined our class and he required firm guidelines to steer his behaviour but once these were established he was a delight to work with, as were his parents. Their devotion to him was absolute. Rather than focus on Dario’s challenges they put their energy into developing his strengths and nurturing his very best qualities. And the very best thing about Dario was his heart. It was big, generous and humble.
He had a best friend in class who meant a great deal to him. One day in grade three, he and Sean got into an argument during recess. As often happens, tempers flared and Dario ended up pushing Sean, hurting him slightly. The physical hurt was nothing compared to the emotional blow. Sean was a very fragile, vulnerable child with autism, and Dario was his self appointed protector. Both boys were upset by the incident and it was necessary to phone home and let their parents know what had happened. We knew Dario’s parents would counsel him to do the right thing. Little did we know how powerful their counsel would be.
The next day Dario approached Sean, who was still a little wary of him, looked him straight in the eye and delivered this stunning apology, in front of the whole class:
” I’m so sorry for hurting you. You’re my best friend and I shouldn’t have done it. I’ll never do it again. Will you ever be able to forgive me?”
My teaching partner and I were speechless and deeply moved. He was 8 years old! Few adults could deliver such an eloquent apology with such grace and humility.
Since that day, whenever I mess up and need to apologize to someone, I think of Dario and try to live up to his powerful example.
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