A rabbi once shared a remarkable story. Its implications for how we deal with each other are profound, and I continue to go back to it from time to time to deepen my understanding of its lessons and how they can be applied in everyday life.

So today, I place this story in your hands.

A young man is at a wedding when he spots his elementary school teacher from years ago. With a rush of excitement, he remembers the memorable encounter he had with this teacher — a single incident in third grade that had a tremendous impact on him and his choices in life.

So he goes over to his former teacher and says, “You remember me?”

“No, I don’t remember you. Who are you?”

The man introduces himself.

The teacher says, “You were my student! Third grade. Wow. I haven’t seen you in so many years. How was your life? What are you involved in?”

“I’m a teacher.”

“Wow. Just like me! What inspired you to become a teacher?”

“What inspired me to become a teacher was you.”

“How did I inspire you to become a teacher?”

“I saw what an impact you had on me. I realized what an impact I can have on children. And so I decided to go into education.”

“What type of impact did I have on you?”

The young man said, “I’ll remind you, but I’m sure you remember the story.”

“One day, one of my friends got himself — his mother and father bought him — a beautiful wristwatch. I had dreamt of a watch, but I couldn’t afford one. So I decided to steal his watch. He had it in his pocket and I stole it. He came into class, saw that somebody stole his watch, and complained to the teacher. So you made an announcement. ‘Whoever took this boy’s watch, please return it’. I was too embarrassed and I didn’t want to return it, so I didn’t. You locked the door and you said, ‘I’m going to have to line everybody up and empty their pockets in order to get back the watch’. And that’s what you did.

“I thought to myself, this is going to be the most shameful moment of my life. But then you said, ‘All boys line up at the wall. But I want everybody to have their eyes closed’.

“You went from pocket to pocket. Everybody’s eyes were closed. You came to my pocket, found the watch, and you took it out. You then told everyone to open their eyes.

“You gave the watch back to its owner and you never, ever said a word to me. Throughout the entire year you never mentioned the story. And when I thought to myself how you saved my dignity that day, instead of being stereotyped as a thief, as a liar, as a no-good, as a despicable child — you really saved my soul. You saved my dignity. And you never mentioned a word not only to anybody else, not only to the owner, but even to me. And when I looked at that, I thought, wow, this is what a teacher is. This is what a real educator is. This is what I want to do with my life. And therefore, I went into education.”

The teacher has been listening to him the whole time and now he remarks, “Wow, that’s amazing. That’s really amazing”.

And the young man tells his teacher that surely he must remember him now. Surely he would remember what happened and what he did?

The teacher says, “Actually, I don’t know — I wouldn’t know.”

“Why not?” The young man asks. “It’s a pretty dramatic story.”

“Because,” his teacher says, “I also closed my eyes.”

What do you make of the story?

I get goosebumps every time I revisit the story. There’s something so pure, thoughtful, redemptive, affirming, and nurturing in the actions the teacher took that day with the errant student. What lessons can it give us?

The wrong way to interpret the story would be to say, “It’s recommending that you turn a blind eye toward crimes and misdemeanors.” If that’s how we act in our communities, it’s quite possible some will unscrupulously take advantage of a system that always forgives and forgets. Children raised in this manner, where we turn a blind eye to their erroneous ways, may end up not learning important character-forming lessons. I do not think that’s what the rabbi’s message to us is, from this story.

Imagine a context where people are generally good-hearted — not chronically engaged in bad behavior — where a breakdown of trust happens due to someone’s misconduct. It was in a context like this, I believe, that the teacher found himself; my assumption is that his students weren’t chronic offenders. He wished to keep the students pure in their mutual perceptions of each others’ nature, and to keep himself pure as well. He wished to protect them from letting thoughts of moral inferiority or superiority pervade their minds. He wished to show them that a single lapse of judgment does not soil one’s character, that people shouldn’t be defined based on the one worst act they have committed in life. And he wished to show the mystery student-offender, “You made a wrong choice by drifting away from your own highest ideals. Now let’s get you back home, to your inner core. I don’t need to show you that you’re wrong, to shame you for it, because I know in your own heart, you’re already feeling remorse for your conduct. I have faith that you will not drift away again.”

The teacher restored order on the outside by requiring the watch to be returned. And he restored order on the inside by removing all evidence that could lead to personal acrimony. 

There are situations in life when we rightfully have to be tough and assertive. But there are also situations when we can take inspiration from this teacher and inspire others to return to their values.

How do you deal with people’s misconduct? Do you find yourself seeing some people in a fixed manner, through the lens of their worst behavior? What transformation might occur if you strive to affirm the good in someone who has drifted away from their core?

Warmly,
Hitendra

Source: A Rabbi shares a story on a stolen watch, and teaches mercy

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