Tag: hope

Eye tests are good for health

Eye tests are good for health

Last week I took H for an eye-test. The ophthalmologist’s clinic was packed and we had a good one hour wait. H had taken along a book. It was another one from the Captain Underpants series. (On that note – When exactly do kids outgrow potty humour? I must remember to do a post on that someday) Yet, I was  grateful. One, because at least it was a book and not the iPad and two, because I was spared endless rounds of word games and Atlas (H sits poring at the world map picking out places, mostly Chinese, ending in X so Atlas with him is no joke).

Mercifully, he read his book quietly, asked the receptionist how many people before his turn then sat counting. In, with the doctor, he sat through the eye test, read what he was asked to and generally behaved impeccably.

We’ve been going to the same ophthalmologist for quite a few years now and as we were leaving he commented, “H has matured a lot.” An innocuous enough remark considering that the kids are growing up. But I remembered the nightmare of the first few visits. 

H was a little over three years old when I noticed he had an affinity for watching television sideways. He was also bending too close over his textbooks (which is a habit I’m still struggling to get him out of). The eye-test was simply a precautionary measure. As it turned out he needed glasses.

Then began rounds of eye tests. He refused to sit on that chair, when he did he wouldn’t sit still, he would scrunch his eyes, or blink rapidly or simply keep them shut, despite our repeated entreaties. Worse, he’d break into the ABCD song when asked to read the alphabets on the monitor.

The first time round it was funny. Then on it was just frustrating.

The most unfortunate part was that the doc couldn’t give him a hundred percent accurate pair of glasses. As a result his eyesight deteriorated further. I changed doctors many times over until I finally found this one who could handle him well.

That is why the compliment was such a huge deal. And I came home feeling very optimistic as I thought that maybe things will fall into place as the kids grew up.

Earlier in the day the kids had been exceptionally rowdy. Tired and upset as I was, I wrote a distressed post wondering where I was going wrong. And now I’m glad I didn’t publish it. That eye-test sorted out my day. 

Seriously, doctors are useful people in more ways than one :-).

The happy butterfly

The happy butterfly

“Look mama what a strange butterfly,” said the little girl staring in awe. This is no place for a butterfly, thought her mother, mopping her brow.

Their’s was a dreary home, stuck between scores of others, between open drains and garbage, soot and filth, not a flower in sight. Yet the butterfly hovered.

The little girl reached out and it landed gently, right on her palm. There she sat opening and closing her delicate wings glowing with an ethereal light. 

The mother watched her girl’s face lit up with a smile and found it reflected on her own, wiping out the tired sad lines even if for a moment. 

As they smiled the tiny creature seemed to get stronger, to glow even brighter and two new colours shimmered on its wings.

Off she flew, off towards the school, to the sobbing boy clutching his mum’s hand. “I don’t want to go,” said he with a wail. She floated close by calling out to him. He listened, he stared, tears forgotten, a smile appeared. And then he let go, following her with his teacher, uncomplaining.
And another colour appeared on her wings.
On she flew to the busy marketplace. “What’s that!” wondered the old vegetable vendor distracted for a moment from the thought of that blanket he needed to buy. She fluttered around waiting. The smile appeared soon and so did the colour.
And off she flew. This time to the busy executive cradling a phone in the crick of his neck. Oh this was tough but she didn’t give up. She lingered between his files alighting for a moment right on his laptop, catching his attention, finally. She drifted gently by the drooping bouquet, made with love by his daughter but carelessly discarded. The thought of his daughter brought him a smile, a trifle regretful, but a smile nonetheless. 
The butterfly got her colour and off she flew.
The crusty landlady, the lonely student, the unhappy socialite, the overworked maid – she flew by each one. Some were easy, some so tough. But a smile she drew from each one of them. Innocent, happy, joyful smiles, smiles without malice, smiles of love. She gathered them all upon her wings. And with each one of those she grew more beautiful, ever more strong and ever more determined.
Yeah she’d do it, she’d change the world. She’d make it happier a smile at a time.