I was taking care of a developmentally disabled child.  He was in a small class of maybe 7 other kids, preparing for his bar mitzvah, or some sort of Jewish initiation.  The other kids teased him and the teacher gave up on him- nobody thought he could do the work necessary, but I had faith in him.   I took him away from the group.  At that point he was an egg- I left him in a nesting pit of dirt so the sun could help incubate him, while a trail of bugs crawled over and around the egg- somehow helping.  Finally he 'hatched' and I looked at his notebook.  Not all the work had been done, and what had been was written in a very childish handwriting, but it was there, and correct.  He was good enough, and he would make it.  I was proud.