First Light
Back when we kids were small there was a little boy two houses down that was
blind. Smart little guy too. He could read Braille, at a sixth grade level, and
he was only six or seven. The way he ran, played and spoke to you, it would be
difficult to tell he was blind from a distance. His eyes looked normal except
for the slight cloud or film that seemed to be in their depths.
In the early fifties there was some kind of new eye surgery that had become
available or experimental; I can't remember now. Anyway the parents looked into
it, and discovered the doctors thought it might give him a chance at some level
of eyesight. They knew not what it would be, but they were pretty sure it would
be better than complete blindness, which he suffered at the time.
Investigating further they discovered the cost; a staggering sum would be an
understatement. Insurance at the time wouldn't cover it. The people at church,
the whole neighborhood, well; the whole community found out about it after a
while and started little things to raise money. Gloria, the little crippled girl
who owned Shep The Wonder Dog who pulled her around in a carriage her dad had
made, started a lemonade stand in front of her house to help. Several of us
started a neighborhood vegetable stand selling things from our gardens. They
even had rummage sales and lawns were being mowed that didn't need it. Special
collections were being taken up in church for the fund and all of it was going
into the fund for his operation. Our efforts made the paper.
The family was contacted and it seems that a hospital out of town and some
doctors agreed to do it for what was in the fund at the end of that summer.
They were gone a few days to get it done, and when they returned his whole head
was bandaged-he had to be kept inside and quiet for thirty days.
It was a cool, crisp fall evening when it was time to unwrap the bandages.
The room had to be darkened. We neighbors were all gathered on their patio for a
barbeque, and had brought all kinds of things to go with it while waiting for
the event. Their house was dark and it had gotten so clear with no moon it was
eerie. The stars seemed to be flashing like a circus. I went inside to see how
things were going just as they opened the venetian blinds a little for him to
have his first glimpse of the world. Across the street a neighbors lights were
on. He asked what it was and was told the neighbors were home because their
lights were on. He had never experienced seeing lights before.
His parents gently led him out onto the patio where we were all gathered
watching in anticipation of his first visions. He looked around at all of us who
he recognized by our voices, but had never seen. Then he looked up into the sky
and exclaimed, "Look Daddy, God's home, his lights are on." There was not a dry
eye among us.
Mark Crider C2006 mark@cccoating.com
Mark and his wife Sandra live in northwest Corpus Christi, Texas on their bird
and wildlife sanctuary.