Excerpt From the book:“We become artists when we see with our hearts instead of our eyes.”
I step outside into a bracing morning.The day is almost too blue; the air is so clear that it seems alive. Far above me the clouds march in celestial cadence across the sky.
Years ago I used to drive a cab for a living. There was a blind woman I used to pick up at one of the local universities. She was taciturn, proper, almost british in her sense of propriety and reserve. and though she seldom talked, we gradually became friends.
One day i asked her what one thing she would wish to see, for only one minute, she could have the gift of sight.
She smiled and thought a moment. Then she said, ” Clouds”.
The answer surprised me.Of all the choices in the wide breadth of the world, she had chosen one that would never have crossed my mind.
“Why clouds?” I asked.
“Because i can’t imagine them,” she said.
“People have tried to explain them to me. they tell me they are like cotton. They tell me they look like fog feels. They spray whipped cream in my hand. They move my fingers over paintings of skies and let me feel the shapes of clouds painted on canvas. But i am still no closer to an understanding. Yes , it would be clouds.”
As i Drove along i pondered her words. I, who saw clearly, spent each day wishing for some distant object– a place, a person, some prize of life i hoped to win. But one who valued sight the most– on to whom it was denied– knew that the greatest gift her eyesight could bestow was before me, unnoticed and unhallowed ,at that very moment.
Review: 5/5. Book : Small Graces Author: Kent Nerburn.
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