The day had started badly. A failed car battery, unsustainable expenses, an important staff meeting missed, salary cuts by the school’s funders. On top of this was a tense marital discussion the previous night, so she decided to bury herself in her work, trying to put in just a little extra.

Her special needs class was composed of mostly non-verbal children with varying disabilities. One boy in particular demanded her attention. Lebogang was a big, burly 12-year-old who had low-functioning autism. He was non-communicative and usually friendly and outgoing, but he had problems relating to others and sometimes reacted violently to his own reflection in windows. Teenage hormones were beginning to make themselves felt — the crippling need to express himself, the frustration of failing to do so and managing his problems created a bundle of frustration. Yet he sought attention, love and hugs, and in the regular music sessions found wordless, noisy release to the music locked up inside.

Every day the teacher played recorded music and performed with the children. On this day, she poured all her energy, frustration and worry into the music, singing and dancing like a child. Lebogang reacted exuberantly, jumping and shouting wordlessly. When she hugged him, after dancing to the tune of "Ring-A-Ring O' Rosie," he laughed with a wide open mouth. When the music stopped, a light seemed to go on in his eyes and he uttered his first words: “Ring a rosy?”

She shouted it back at him and hugged him, both of them frightened and overwhelmed at this milestone. Over the next year, with patient coaching, he cautiously ventured into two other words — an attempt at his own name and the word "teecha" all said with a big, innocent smile as he pointed to himself and his teacher in turn.

She followed her husband to a new job, found a new school, but Lebogang still remains a part of her heart. What has become of him? Has his speech continued improving ? Does he still sing "Ring-A-Ring O' Rosie"? Does he still hear the music in his soul even though it isn’t playing outside? Does he still have a reason to sing and dance?

Throwing all your cares away. Immersing yourself in a song, reaching for your inner child, reminding yourself of the joy to be found in the little victories of life and of sharing that joy with others is where the unique reward for a teacher lies. And the price.