Willard P. Franklin was a skinny and short boy. From the first day he entered my junior-high classroom, he existed in his own world, shutting out his classmates and me, his teacher.

My attempts to develop a friendly relationship with him were always met with no reaction. Even a “Good Morning, Willard” received no reply. Willard was strictly a loner who seemed to have no desire or need to break his silence.

Shortly after the Thanksgiving holiday, we received word that we would collect money on Christmas for the less fortunate people in our school district. After collection, the school headteacher would show us a list of the poor families in our school and send the money to those who most needed help through the Christmas collection.

“Christmas is a season of giving,” I told my students. “There are a few students in the school who might not have a happy holiday season. By contributing to our Christmas collection, you will help to buy food, clothing and toys for these people in need. We’ll start the collection tomorrow. ”

When I called for the contributions the next day, I discovered that most of the students had forgotten except a few including Willard P. Franklin. Willard dug deep into his pants pockets as he walked up to my desk.

Carefully, he dropped two quarters into the small container.

When the headteacher passed me the list, I discovered Willard’s family was on the top.

Ramu started a business with great enthusiasm but just after a few months his business went under. Time passed but Ramu didn’t start any new work. His teacher got to know about his situation and called him to his home.

The teacher asked, “Why don’t you start some other work?”

Ramu replied, “I gave my everything to my business and yet it still failed.”

The teacher tried to comfort him, saying “But that’s life. Sometimes we get success and sometimes we don’t. This doesn’t mean that we stop working.”

“What’s the point of doing work, when I can’t be sure of success?” Ramu replied with a bit of annoyance.

The teacher took Ramu to a room and showed him a dead tomato plant. Ramu was confused and said, “It’s dead. Why are you showing it to me?”

The teacher replied, “When I sowed its seed, I did everything right for it. I watered it, fertilized it, sprayed it with pesticide (杀虫剂) . I took great care of it but it still died.” He stopped for a while and then said, “Doing work is the same... No matter how hard you try, you cannot decide what happens in the end. However, you can control those things in your hands. Just do your best!”

Ramu asked, “But if there is no guarantee of success then what’s the use of doing anything?”

The teacher said, “You’d better not think like that...”

“What’s wrong with that... I have given so much hard work, so much money, so much time; if success is only a matter of chance, then what is the use of doing so much?” said Ramu and he was about to leave.

Just then the teacher stopped him and said,   “Before you leave, I want to show you one more thing.”

I always prided myself on my sharp tongue and witty (妙趣横生的) retorts (反驳), whether in class debates or casual arguments. So when it came time to represent my school in the national debate series, I was naturally very confident. But this challenge would turn out to be one of my life's most important lessons.

The run-up to the finals was a breeze for my team. We were all good speakers who had the benefit of an experienced teacher who trained us well. But in the team, I was undoubtedly the most outstanding speaker. In each of the rounds that I debated in, I had always been selected as the best speaker. This meant that my confidence was at an all-time high by the time we found ourselves with one week left to train before the finals. I had no reason to even think that I would not be voted the overall best speaker for the debate series.

But then I began to grow arrogant. I looked down on my teammates’ pathetic retorts and poor debating style. I thought myself a natural debater being pulled down by their bad performance. In response, I became sloppy (不认真的). I even began missing practices, much to the panic of my teammates and the frustration (沮丧) of my teacher. They could only hope I'd pull through in the end as I proved irreplaceable.

The day of the finals came. I was nearly skipping to the venue, ready to finally show off my debating prowess (杰出的技能). But the reality was not something I could have ever imagined. Due to my repeated absences, our teamwork was so bad that even our school supporters were shamed into silence. There was a rift (分歧) in the team. When it was my turn to conclude as speaker, an expectant hush (寂静) fell over the hall. I was the one meant to win the prized title of Overall Best Speaker.

As I launched into my speech, everything suddenly went very wrong.

Suddenly, a teammate grabbed my hand.