He Sat In the Waiting Room

He sat in the waiting room after
being escorted from the lobby
as the afternoon was passing,

the sun was setting, the rain
was falling and the fog was
descending. It was the perfect

mood for hearing stories from
those several others who sat
around. “I have gone blind in

my left eye and am now almost
blind in my right eye,” she said.
He said, “Yes, the left eye. I had

a pressure reading of forty-seven
in my left eye and they couldn’t
save it and now I’m losing sight

in my right eye.” Others joined in,
interestingly and somewhat ironic-
ally, all talking about glaucoma in

the left eye. He hadn’t been in that
place before but he felt a sort of
camaraderie with them all because

of asymmetrical glaucoma of the
left eye. It reminded him of the time
he went to a widowed person’s meet-

ing as a young widowed person and
hearing such sad stories of deaths of
spouses. He couldn’t help but think

as he sat there waiting for his examin-
ation, that, in comparison, this was a
proverbial walk in the park, perhaps

even if only with one good eye,
yes, thank you, Jesus,  for the
one good eye.

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