He sat there thinking throughout my whole presentation. He was an elderly man who nodded, only occasionally, took notes but seldomly. Sometimes he closed his eyes while I talked and I thought he was sleeping. Other times he looked at me with intensity. On a break he came up and told me that he had, years ago, worked in an institution in London that was a source of such painful memories for him. He said that the people there were treated as little more than bothersome animals. Things to be fed. Things to be washed. He said that his faith had bade him to work with the disenfranchised but that though what he did gave him joy, what he saw gave him pain. He said that some of my lecture that day had reminded him of things that he wished to forget but people he wished to remember.
When the day was over he came along and shook my hand. He said something to me that I will always remember as he described his present job of being a teacher to kids with severe learning disabilities ... this is what he said to me.
I have been given the power to suppress or the power to let grow ... it is my constant prayer that I always make the right choice.