Matthew's eyes grew wide and round and the color drained from his face when he saw his teacher. He apologized to his dad and his newfound good behavior lasted for weeks.

At a time when nationwide, schools face a shortage of special education teachers, someone who goes as far above and beyond the call of duty, as Ms. Minnigerode, 27, is a principal's dream come true. A highly qualified teacher with boundless patience and humor, she has won the love of her autistic students and the trust of their parents.

"She gives and she gives and she gives," said former Millersville principal, Diana Strohecker, whose nomination recently netted Ms. Minnigerode the county school system's teacher of the month award for May. "There are few teachers who want to work with special needs children all the time. It takes a very special person to do what she does, and she does it beautifully."

Ms. Minnigerode earned her bachelor's and master's degrees in special education from the University of Maryland, College Park. She did her student teaching at Millersville about four years ago, and Ms. Strohecker immediately hired her.

Today she teaches about nine of the roughly 20 autistic children, usually in third to fifth grades, at Millersville. The school is an autism cluster center, meaning it enrolls autistic students from surrounding schools.

They come to school with an array of special needs. A few are high-functioning with Asperger's syndrome. But others have behavioral problems that can be dangerous, and Ms. Minnigerode and her two teacher assistants - Amy Shifflett and Angela Curtis - have been scratched, kicked and bitten on the job.

But Ms. Minnigerode went into special education knowing what to expect. In high school, she volunteered with the Special Olympics.

"I loved it," she said. "I thought, if I could make a career out of this, I would be happy. I loved knowing I was helping."

It takes a team effort to reach success with students, she said, noting that she couldn't do it without her aides, the school administration and other teachers.

Teaching a math lesson on counting change Monday, Ms. Minnigerode wore khaki cargo capris, her short, brown hair was pushed back with a plastic headband. Her feet matched Amy's - both wore Croc flip-flops and hot-pink toenail polish.

"We wish sometimes we could wear high heels, but no way," Ms. Shifflett said. Special education teachers need to be able to run when called, she said.

Ms. Minnigerode taught her lesson with an interactive white board that looks like a giant computer screen. When her students got answers right, they would tap a graphic of a pink piggybank on the screen, triggering a recording of cheering and applause, and smiles from her students.

School is fun in Ms. Minnigerode's class, Ms. Shifflett said. Students dance around the classroom and play board games and even video games. At the end of the day, they clean up the room to the tune of "Heigh-Ho" from Disney's "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs."

"She finds humor in everything," said Tammy Brendle, Millersville's current principal. "She laughs."

But when school ends in a few weeks, there will be some sadness, too. Three of Ms. Minnigerode's fifth-graders will graduate from Millersville and move on to middle school - an emotional time for special education teachers who sometimes teach students for multiple years.

"You get to know the kids and their families. You get so close to them, you almost feel like they belong to you," she said. "There'll be lots of tears."

For Millersville parent Heather Luke, Ms. Minnigerode has been the force behind a change in her son, Carson, 7, who has Asperger's.

This year for the first time, Carson was able to take some classes, or "mainstream" with regular students his own age - the ultimate goal for any special-education parent or teacher.

In that class, Carson made friends on his own for the first time and was even invited to a birthday party, Ms. Luke said, and it's because when Ms. Minnigerode looked at him, she saw his strengths. When a teacher does that, it makes students see the strength in themselves, she said.

That's where teachers like Ms. Minnigerode can make a difference. In her class, students who have trouble socializing, high-five each other. Some who used to throw fits sit still to learn.

And some students who have trouble speaking start to talk.

When asked yesterday why Ms. Minnigerode is a good teacher, Jared Pipes, 9, waved his hands, tilted his head to think and answered.

"Because she's my friend."