When I was a teacher, I was always excited to meet my new students. On Day One, I entered my classroom excitedly, expecting to have a great time getting to know them. On Day Two, I was already having a frustrating time with one particular fellow. On Day Three, I was at my head's office, complaining about that person (whose parents must have made a mistake in sending to me).
Judging from his looks, the poor guy must have grown up in the farm. He could hardly speak English and looked like a piece of wood whenever I called him to recite. He would just sit silently in the corner, say a few words to those nearby, then resume his near-petrified stance.
"I'm so irritated with him," I whined to our head, a jolly old man with a snowy puff of hair crowning his head. "Nothing seems to get into his head. He's so, so... so blank!"
Mr. Jolly Face took one piercing look at me. "You know," he said, his eyes and lips working together, "there's nothing we can do about his being here anymore. But one thing I'm satisfied about is that your student has a mind that's willing to learn."
Those words hit me like a thunderbolt. Apparently, I was concentrating only on a few measly details: his lack of competent early education, his poor language skills, and even his appearance. I simply wasn't looking at the bigger picture: he wanted to learn, he was doing his best to listen and understand, and he wanted to have a better future. To cut the long story short, that guy (I leave him unnamed out of respect) improved and landed a very good job some years later.