Different... But


Father and Daughter sit beneath the spreading arms of an oak, sharing time and words, spending moments together. He watches as she opens her book to read, her small fingers finding her place. She begins to read aloud....

'and wind blew there in the meadow, stirring the grasses and weeds beneath a summer sky'

'Daddy, what is a meadow?' she pauses in her reading to ask.

'A meadow is like a big field. It usually has pretty wildflowers there, some trees and birds, and small animals like squirrels and such. The grass is usually tall but very thin, ' he explains.

'Does God live there?' she asks.

'Yes, Little One, he does. Now back to reading,' he says with a smile.

'The pretty bluebells and black-eyed Susans dance with the breeze. The grasses sway, keeping time for the birds and wind making music.'

Daddy, what is blue? I mean, what does it look like?' she stops reading once again to ask a question.

He looks at her and sees the curiosity in her sightless eyes. He has to smile at her inquisitiveness though he was quite accustomed to it. She wanted to know all! How could anyone pity this child? He knew some did, wondered of the life she'd lead, wished more for her. But those who love her do not because they know the truth. She was special, but not because she was different, not because she was blind... it was just because of who she was.

'Daddy!! What is blue?' she interrupts his thought almost as though she knows where they had gone. Again he smiles.

'Blue is like feeling warm and cool at the same time. Remember when we went to the beach and you walked in the ocean? You said it was like the warm water and the cool water were tickling your feet. That is blue.' he tries to explain.

'Oh, okay. But what are bluebells and black-eyed Susans?' she asks quietly.

'They are both kind of flowers. Bluebells do kind of look like bells hanging from their stems,' he tries to paint the picture for her.

'What about black-eyed Susans?' she wants to know.

'Now that's a bit harder. I guess they're like the sun but with a little black hole in the center,' he again tries his best to answer her questions.

'So it's kind of like I see? Different and with a hole in the middle?' she turns her wide blue eyes to look at him.

'Yes, just kind of like that,' the father manages to choke out as tears flood his eyes. Pity this child? Never! His gaze focuses once again on her fingers gliding across the page of her Braille story book and he hears her read again....

'How peaceful it is! How filled with all good things of nature it is! This meadow... this small piece of beautiful beneath the summer sky.'

'God DOES live there!' she exclaims. 'Daddy, can you take me to a meadow sometime? I want to hear the music and feel the flowers dance.' she says as she closes her book and makes ready to leave.

'I'll take you, Little One,' he says again between tears as he takes her hand for the walk home. No, she is not to be pitied. How lucky he is to have her in his life, May he always be able to share the world through her eyes, share her innocence and purity of spirit. Pity her? Again.. never! May he be more like her. Different... but so very special. He looks heavenward, whispers a 'thank you' to whomever may be listening, and there beneath the arms of the spreading oak he hears a whisper in the wind. 'You're very welcome', it says, 'very welcome indeed.'

2011