When I was about 7 years old, the teacher celebrated his birthday with the class. Of course I wasn't allowed to participate, so I was sent to another class and the teacher of that class set me at a table in the front of the classroom with my back towards the class. I've felt so lonely and ashamed because of that...
A week later my teacher came to me right before I went home and he gave me a bag with candy... he saved it for me from his birthday party. I thought that was the sweetest thing, so I accepted it and ate it all before I got home. Of course I felt guilty after that, but the satisfaction and comfort it gave me that the teacher had actually been thinking of me was more important. Twenty years later I went back to my old school and met him again. He couldn't remember me, but I thanked him anyway for what he did for me. I'll never forget him, since he was the only person who actually cared about me during primary school.