"Who did this?" asked the teacher once more. She wasn't really asking, she was demanding an answer. She seldom became angry, but she was this time.
She held up a piece of broken glass and asked, "Who broke this window?"
"Oh, oh," the boy who broke the window thought. “I was the one who broke the window. I had not done it intentionally. It was caused by an errant throw of a baseball. Why did it have to be me? It wasn't really my fault. If I admitted guilt, I would be in a lot of trouble. How would I be able to pay for a big window like that? I didn't even get an allowance. My father is going to have a fit," he thought.
He didn't want to raise his hand, but some force much stronger than him pulled it skyward.
He told the truth. "I did it." He said no more. It was hard enough saying what he had.
The teacher went to the library shelf and took down a book. She then began walking towards his desk. He had never known his teacher to strike a student, but he feared she was going to start with him and she was going to use a book for the swatting.
"I know how you like birds," she said as she stood looking down at his guilt-ridden face. "Here is that field guide about birds that you are constantly checking out. It is yours. It's time we got a new one for the school anyway. The book is yours and you will not be punished as long as you remember that I am NOT rewarding you for your misdeed, I am rewarding you for your truthfulness."
The boy couldn't believe it! He wasn't being punished and he was getting his very own bird field guide. The very one that he had been saving up money to buy. The money he feared would be going to the school to buy a new window.
Years later, though the book was gone and so was that wonderful teacher, all that remained of that day with the boy was this wonderful memory and the lesson the teacher taught him—never miss an opportunity to own your mistakes; being truthful has its own rewards.
That lesson stayed with him and continued to echo forever.
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