Nothing

When a teacher retired after forty years in the classroom, there was a huge
dinner for her. People flocked to the affair, not only colleagues and friends,
but the numerous children, now grown to adulthood, whom she had taught
 over the years.

They all came and many of them spoke. They spoke of the teacher's kindness,
of her understanding, her sternness in the classroom coupled with her lover
of her students, and the special care she took to see to it that every student learned.
Many of her former students attributed their success in later life to the values and 
knowledge they had learned as students in her classes.

Finally, it was the teacher's turn to speak, and as the master of ceremonies introduced
her, he remarked that perhaps she would be willing to share some of the secrets 
of her success in teaching.

"There's no secret to it," she said as she began to speak. "On my first day of teaching,
 forty years ago, I walked into the classroom to find that my students had placed a
tack on my chair, put an apple with a worm in it on my desk, and someone had
written on the chalkboard, 'You can't teach us nothing!'"

"Since that day, I have always checked my chair before sitting down, never eaten
anything given to me by a student, and made it my special project to see to it
 that every child in my class learned."

"You see, within five minutes of that first day, I knew that my bottom could
stand the tack and my stomach could survive the worm - but I realized that my
conscience would never forgive me if I taught them 'NOTHING'"

~Author Unknown~