Imperceptible

Sometimes my perception of things is totally wrong. Take the other night, for instance. I got up out of bed in the middle of the night. This isn’t an unusual occurrence. I didn’t turn on a light so as to not wake my hubby. I know my way around the bedroom in the dark. Not a problem. The first thing I noticed was that the fan, a large two foot by two foot square fan, on the floor was “on the wrong angle”. I realized this as I walked smack into it. I corrected its direction in my 3am state of mind. And, then headed for the bedroom door. Whereupon, I smashed hard into the closet door. No one had moved the fan earlier or the bedroom door. I just didn’t have the proper night vision or perception. I’ve never done that before and hope I don’t do it again!

I got things wrong at church last week-end also. It’s customary during mass to exchange the “sign of the peace” with people nearby. If you’re close friends or family, it would be a hug. If they’re strangers, then it’s a handshake. If the person is across the aisle, it’s the peace sign, with two fingers in the shape of a “V”.

The woman from the pew in front of me, turned to shake hands with me. But, her two young teenage daughters did not. I know some people have a germ phobia concerning handshaking; they usually give the finger “sign of the peace”. However, in this instance, the two daughters did not even turn around. What was up with that? But, I was in church, so I tried to think the best of people. To act Christian. The daughters must have some reason for being “unfriendly”.

When it was time to receive communion, I noticed ahead of me that the mother and the two daughters stood in a row side-by-side. I thought, “Well, isn’t that nice, all three of them getting communion together.” Then, I realized something was wrong with the picture. The mother, situated between the daughters, held hands very tightly to each daughter. Both daughters looked downward. All the time. It dawned on me…the daughters were blind. And, maybe had further disabilities. I don’t believe they spoke at all during mass. This, if you think about it, is unusual for teenagers. My mind drifted from the priest and the mass. I thought it quite possible the two were twins, maybe born prematurely. That would explain a lot. I hoped it wasn’t only the mother caring for them.

Suddenly, my concerns and prayers for myself and my family paled, thinking of the woman and the girls’ daily struggles. I wanted to help her but was unsure how. So, for now, my prayers just shifted from myself to them. Hoping they found themselves with a little more strength along their journey this week.

 

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