The Gift of Sight

Christopher adjusted his eye patch, then shouldered his backpack for the trek home from school. He didn’t need the patch, really, but it made him feel less embarrassed to wear it. Years ago, the doctor had given him a glass eye to replace his injured eye, and it didn’t match the remaining good eye.

Stomach rumbling, Christopher decided to detour by the local market to pick up a snack. He contemplated his options as he approached the corner opposite the market and waited for the signal to change. Next to him, a man with a white cane stood, listening intently to the sounds of traffic.

“Hello, sir,” Christopher attempted to capture the man’s attention without startling him. “I’ll cross with you if you’d like.”

“Thank you, young man. I’d appreciate it. This is a dangerous intersection for all of us.”

“Yes,” Christopher agreed. “The light just turned; you have two steps before the curb.” He resisted the urge to take the gentleman’s arm to guide him, knowing that such an action might set him off balance.

As they reached the sidewalk on the opposite side, the man handed Christopher a small box with twine fastened around it. “You gave me your sight, I’d like to return the gift,” the stranger said.

Puzzled, Christopher loosened the knot to lift the lid and reveal the parcel’s contents. A thumbnail-sized, circular plastic disk lay nestled on foam; its color was an exact match to his functioning eye.