A Truly Defining Moment

I took on the job of teaching the 8th grade special ed math class. Now I am teaching math to all of the special ed students in the school, along with two classes of regular 7th grade math.
Teaching the SE kids is different from teaching the regular ed kids. Every day I learn new ways of relating to them and understand a little bit more what they need in order to be successful. Little things like making the first few math problems on the worksheet easy enough for everyone to do, so that they have some confidence as a group, are crucial. They have low expectations of themselves and they are quite accustomed to adults around them having low expectations as well. Their first few weeks with me are hellish. I force them to rethink their beliefs about themselves and others. I force them to use manners, be kind to each other, and write their name on their paper. In the regular world, these things are no big deal. But in my world, some of these kids have been treated for their entire lives as though they are not capable of writing their name on their paper, or being kind, or polite. They think I'm mean. They make fun of me behind my back and complain about me to anyone who will listen.
There are times when I doubt myself. I wonder if I am being too hard on them. My feelings get hurt when I hear them making fun of me. I wonder if I made the right life choice to be a teacher, and especially if I am cut out for teaching SE. Then there are times when I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I am exactly where I am supposed to be, doing what I am supposed to be doing. Last week in 8th grade we learned how to solve one-step equations with fractions in them. My greatest gift as a teacher seems to be that I can boil even the most complicated things down to a few simple steps. I taught them how do solve equations over the course of four days, and on the fifth I gave them problems to do on their own. One student in particular believes to his very core that he is worthless. He knows he is not allowed to talk about that in front of me, and I have made it very clear that I disagree with his view. On that fifth day of solving equations, I stood behind him while he solved an equation. (Ok, I might have talked him through a step or two.) He got to the end, and he had the right answer. I said, "Good job." He paused for a moment, and then gave me a shocked look.
"You mean that's IT??"
"That's it. You did great."
I began to walk away, and I heard him talking to himself in amazement. He said, "I am smart. I am smart. I got my dad's brain!" He proceeded to work hard, alone, for the rest of the period, solving equations and feeling VERY good about himself. That in and of itself is a small miracle.
There is no amount of money, no award or official recognition, no praise from any outside source that could measure up to those moments. It was a small victory for one child, but it made all the difference in the world to me. At least for today, I have no doubts at all!