Father Kit Cool Gun Garth Posted September 4, 2024 Posted September 4, 2024 The park bench deserted as I sat down to read 'neath the long, straggly branches of an old oak tree. Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown, for the world was intent on dragging me down. If that weren't enough to ruin my day, a young boy approached me, all tired from play. He stood right before me his head tilted down, and said with excitement, "Look what I found!" His hand held a flower, what a pitiful sight, with its petals all worn - not enough rain, or light. Wishing that he would run off to play, I faked a small smile and then shifted away. Instead he proceeded to sit by my side, placed the flower to his nose and declared with surprise, "It sure smells pretty and it's beautiful, too. That's why I picked it; here, it's for you." The weed before me was dying or dead. Not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow or red. But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave. So I reached for the flower, "It's just what I need." But instead of him placing the flower in my hand, he held it mid-air without reason. It was then that I noticed for the very first time that weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind. I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun as I thanked him for picking the very best one. "You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play; unaware of the impact he'd had on my day. I sat there and wondered, did he know of my plight? Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight. Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see the problem was not with the world; but with me. And for all of those times I myself had been blind, I vowed to see the beauty in life, every second that's mine. I held that wilted flower up to my nose and breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose.
Recommended Posts
Archived
This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.