Teaching is an extremely complex profession in these modern days, with the added challenges of multi culturalism, language problems and dysfunctional family situations.  The phrase, ‘the patience of Job’ springs to mind!  However, the plight of the schoolteacher is at times overwhelming. I know a few teachers who receive the Weekly Power Surge, and they will be able to relate, from their teaching experience, to the story that follows.

A teacher in a school in the USA had a class of 22 children on multiple levels of achievement, which meant that any lesson she taught was akin to a three-ring circus. Daily she was challenged and stretched to the limit, to provide a teaching structure that was meaningful and fulfilling both to her and her pupils.

Into this stressful picture came Rigo, a new pupil who joined her class well into the school year. He was the youngest son of a Mexican immigrant.  Rigo lived most of his short 12 years in rural Mexico. In the village where he lived there was no running water, and little in the way of amenities.  His father, who spoke in broken English, told the teacher, in the way of an apology that Rigo's small stature was due to the scarcity of food in their village.
Rigo entered her classroom at 12 with no understanding of basic skills because until this point in time, he had been unschooled. In the United States, even "children of poverty" at fourth-grade level understood basic shapes and had some word recognition……but not Rigo. For all practical purposes, Rigo could have moved here from Mars. It was never fully understood how he had acquired a very small amount of broken English, perhaps from his father.

The teacher was so angry at this placement, and question why Rigo had to be allocated to her class. She had gone to great lengths to become a "gifted specialist."   She hadn’t a clue what to do with a child like Rigo while at the same time trying to meet her obligations to her other students. For two days she complained to her colleagues, who agreed with her. During that time she grudgingly gathered coloring sheets, found an old workbook, and did a poor job of keeping Rigo involved.

On the third day, while she was walking back from the lunchroom with her pupils, the school discipline officer stopped her in the hall, "Your Rigo is in the office. He was throwing rocks in the playground during lunch-break."  She shrugged it off and went back to her classroom with 21 children in tow. A short time into her math lesson, Rigo returned. He stood in the doorway and I looked bewildered. His eyes were red from crying. He said only, "Mexico okay." The teacher immediately realised that he was trying to tell her that rocks were toys in his village in Mexico.

It was then that she saw a light shining through Rigo's tears. It was born of the pain of being ragged and poor and the shame of being in a world where you didn't seem to have the same understanding as everyone else.

She looked around the room and then back at Rigo. She was convicted in a moment of inner revelation, and Christ's words echoed in her ears. "When you do it for the least of My brethren, you do it for Me."  She understood, went to Rigo in great humility and touched his shoulder. His face, she now realized, was the face of Christ for her in that moment. She took him into the hallway and they sat on the floor. He put his head on her shoulder as she embraced this small child. His pain burst forth like water through a dam, and he cried heavy tears onto her shirt.  The teacher cried, too.

 She confided that she was weeping for all the Rigo’s in the world, but most of all weeping for herself and all the Christians to whom Christ comes in a small vulnerable frame like Rigo's and we hand them our leftover coloring pages, outdated workbooks, and discarded clothes, brushing them aside like an inconvenience. She took Rigo's face into her hands and resolved to find a way to make his days full and meaningful. And, indeed, God opened doors for the two of them. His time in her class filled up quickly with mentors and educational toys and children reading books to him. She first heard him laugh at the computer with another child learning the names of shapes. Her heart leapt.

Sadly he was in her class for only a few weeks. His family moved, chasing the elusive dream of survival. He left the teacher with a lesson she would never forget.  Rigo vanished like an angel but his brief visit transformed the teacher’s life.

She said Rigo’s tiny frame and fragile eyes will always remind her of another child, a small infant born in a humble and vulnerable stable. The infant became a man, and His words ring in her ears, giving her a new perspective on the value of each child:

 “Let the children come to Me and do not forbid them; for of such in the Kingdom of Heaven.” (Matthew 19:14)

This is not only the story of a teacher who did something wonderful for a child, but of a child who did something remarkable for a teacher.