I used to work in a toy store in my hometown. It was an awesome job, a job I really loved, & due to the nature of it I interacted with many, many people. Some customers came in regularly enough that I was able to get to know them past the usual pleasantries. One customer that I had a real affection for was a woman named Kate. Kate is the mother of someone I went to high school with, always had a great big smile on her face, & had a distinct & cheerful way of speaking.
She is also blind.
Helping her always took a little bit more time than the usual amount I would spend with the average customer, but I never minded. She was so kind & appreciative that she often made me feel as though I was performing some Herculean task by helping her pick out a toy. But, and as corny as it sounds, she was providing me with a greater service - allowing me time to appreciate all the fun things we sold the way she was able to, with my hands. I'd describe toys to her as she felt them, turning them every which way, completely overjoyed. "Oh my God," she'd say, "This is adorable. This is so cute. I'm definitely getting this."
It wasn't just the unbridled joy Kate displayed that endeared me, but her blindness itself. Sure, there was the part of them that was saddened by the thought that she was unable to see with her eyes all the colors surrounding her, the chubby smiling faces of the children playing. But her blindness, in a way, seemed freeing.
Often I wish I could shut my eyes to the appearances of others. I, like many, struggle with "judging a book by its cover," most often during Mass.
Yep. Terrible, right?
Here I am, in line for Communion trying to ready myself to receive the Body of Christ, & all I can think of is the person in the pew in front of me wearing sweatpants. Or the guy in an untucked flannel shirt covered in stains. Or the girl in desperate need of a haircut. Insert whatever example you'd like.
Granted I know that this is not something alone I struggle with; curiosity is natural, as are strong reactions like attraction or revulsion. Sometimes you really can't help yourself from, on the more positive end of the spectrum, staring at the person with an eye-catching smile, & likewise it can be hard to not stare at the person who has an obvious physical disability.
And that's where people with visual impairments have a leg up on the rest of us.
Wouldn't it be wonderful to go through life being able to interact with people completely devoid of judgement based on their physical appearance? To not be intimidated by someone's beauty, to not be covetous of their expensive shoes, to not be repulsed by their bad acne or morbidly intrigued by their mysterious scars. To see someone as they are meant to be seen, to see someone as God sees them. I so wish I could do that.
Kate doesn't know what I look like. Maybe if I had ever let her touch my face or if I had ever taken the time to tell her what I was wearing she would have some idea of my appearance. But I don't think she would've cared anyway. Sometimes, when she'd come into the store, I was dressed professionally in a pretty blouse & cute shoes. Other times I had pants covered in price tags, barely concealed breakouts, & hair that hadn't been brushed as thoroughly as I would have liked. Kate had no idea.
We all have crosses to bear. That's just a fact of this imperfect world. And we all have been given certain gifts, some more valued than others. But sometimes what some perceive as a curse or a burden are actually gifts in disguise. I think, I believe, that. And while I've been fortunate to have (mostly) healthy eyes & decent enough vision, I'm at the mercy of the judgements I make based on the things I see. It's something I have to work against so that I'm not powerless & resigned to my point of struggle. And, yes, sometimes I wish I could close my eyes & move through life unseeing so as to better perceive the things that matter.
Until I am able to see the world anew I'll have to train myself to see it as people like Kate see it, for its content & not its cover.
She is also blind.
Helping her always took a little bit more time than the usual amount I would spend with the average customer, but I never minded. She was so kind & appreciative that she often made me feel as though I was performing some Herculean task by helping her pick out a toy. But, and as corny as it sounds, she was providing me with a greater service - allowing me time to appreciate all the fun things we sold the way she was able to, with my hands. I'd describe toys to her as she felt them, turning them every which way, completely overjoyed. "Oh my God," she'd say, "This is adorable. This is so cute. I'm definitely getting this."
It wasn't just the unbridled joy Kate displayed that endeared me, but her blindness itself. Sure, there was the part of them that was saddened by the thought that she was unable to see with her eyes all the colors surrounding her, the chubby smiling faces of the children playing. But her blindness, in a way, seemed freeing.
Often I wish I could shut my eyes to the appearances of others. I, like many, struggle with "judging a book by its cover," most often during Mass.
Yep. Terrible, right?
Here I am, in line for Communion trying to ready myself to receive the Body of Christ, & all I can think of is the person in the pew in front of me wearing sweatpants. Or the guy in an untucked flannel shirt covered in stains. Or the girl in desperate need of a haircut. Insert whatever example you'd like.
Granted I know that this is not something alone I struggle with; curiosity is natural, as are strong reactions like attraction or revulsion. Sometimes you really can't help yourself from, on the more positive end of the spectrum, staring at the person with an eye-catching smile, & likewise it can be hard to not stare at the person who has an obvious physical disability.
And that's where people with visual impairments have a leg up on the rest of us.
Wouldn't it be wonderful to go through life being able to interact with people completely devoid of judgement based on their physical appearance? To not be intimidated by someone's beauty, to not be covetous of their expensive shoes, to not be repulsed by their bad acne or morbidly intrigued by their mysterious scars. To see someone as they are meant to be seen, to see someone as God sees them. I so wish I could do that.
Kate doesn't know what I look like. Maybe if I had ever let her touch my face or if I had ever taken the time to tell her what I was wearing she would have some idea of my appearance. But I don't think she would've cared anyway. Sometimes, when she'd come into the store, I was dressed professionally in a pretty blouse & cute shoes. Other times I had pants covered in price tags, barely concealed breakouts, & hair that hadn't been brushed as thoroughly as I would have liked. Kate had no idea.
We all have crosses to bear. That's just a fact of this imperfect world. And we all have been given certain gifts, some more valued than others. But sometimes what some perceive as a curse or a burden are actually gifts in disguise. I think, I believe, that. And while I've been fortunate to have (mostly) healthy eyes & decent enough vision, I'm at the mercy of the judgements I make based on the things I see. It's something I have to work against so that I'm not powerless & resigned to my point of struggle. And, yes, sometimes I wish I could close my eyes & move through life unseeing so as to better perceive the things that matter.
Until I am able to see the world anew I'll have to train myself to see it as people like Kate see it, for its content & not its cover.
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