Mrs. Parks had barely finished writing the day’s lesson on the chalkboard when she turned toward her sixth-grade science class with a mischievous smile. Everyone knew that expression. It usually meant she was about to ask a question that would make the students think—or squirm.

She folded her arms and said, “Class, I have a question for you. Which human body part can increase to nearly ten times its normal size when stimulated?”

The room fell completely silent.

A few students exchanged nervous glances. Others stared at their desks, pretending to be fascinated by the grain in the wood. A couple of boys tried not to laugh, while several girls looked thoroughly embarrassed.

Then, from the third row, little Mary shot to her feet.

Her cheeks were bright red, and she looked genuinely outraged.

“Mrs. Parks!” she exclaimed. “You should not be asking sixth-graders questions like that! It’s completely inappropriate!”

The classroom grew even quieter.

Mary crossed her arms and continued dramatically.

“I’m going to tell my parents exactly what you said. They'll go straight to the principal, and when he hears about this, you're going to lose your job!”

Mrs. Parks didn't react.

She simply smiled politely, as though Mary hadn't spoken at all.

Looking around the room once more, she calmly repeated, “I'll ask again. Which human body part increases to about ten times its normal size when stimulated?”

Mary gasped.

She looked around at her classmates in disbelief.

“Did you hear that?” she whispered loudly. “She actually asked it again! She's definitely getting fired now!”

Several students struggled to keep straight faces.

Mrs. Parks remained perfectly composed.

“Anyone know the answer?”

The silence stretched on for another few moments until Billy slowly raised his hand.

He stood up cautiously, cleared his throat, and glanced around the classroom as if making sure he wasn't walking into a trap.

“Well...” he said hesitantly, “I think... it's the pupil of the eye.”

Mrs. Parks smiled warmly.

“Excellent, Billy,” she said. “That's exactly right.”

She then turned toward Mary, who looked thoroughly confused.

“As for you, young lady,” Mrs. Parks said with a gentle smile, “I have three things to tell you.”

Mary swallowed nervously.

“First,” the teacher said, “you've let your imagination get ahead of the lesson.”

“Second, you clearly didn't read your science homework.”

The class began to chuckle.

“And third,” Mrs. Parks concluded, trying not to smile too broadly, “if you keep jumping to conclusions before you have all the facts, you're going to find yourself embarrassed more often than you'd like.”

The room erupted in laughter, and even Mary couldn't help smiling as she slowly realized the misunderstanding.

The lesson wasn't really about the human body after all.

It was about something even more important:

Never assume you already know the answer before you've heard the whole question.