I had kept listening to my music, readjusting my headphones.
"Well," my mother told me. "There are these two brothers at my school who are blind. They carry a stick and never ask for help."
I turned my head to stare out the window, watching the trees walk past my eyes in a hurry. And then I cried. Little wet drops from the corners of my eyes fell down one by one, gliding down with perfection. You know why I cried? Because I was too embarassed. Just an hour ago, my prayers had consisted of my frustration towards my appearance. I yelled at God, asking for a skinnier body, smoother skin, silkier hair...and a prettier everything. I was insane.There I was complaining for what I didn't have whereas I was lucky enough to be able to actually see what I didn't have. Those two little second and third grade boys would be living their whole lives in a world of darkness. Of enigma. Of nothing. I had everything they lacked yet I still wanted more. I'm a selfish brat, you know? I'm disgusting.
But I'm ready to fix that.
That man. That man who thanked God for his eyes has now become my hero. So thank you unknown man. Because I was blind my 16 years of living. I whined about insensible things...when right in front of me was my family, my home, my friends, my clothes, and my beautiful, completely normal body. It was too dark to see. Now, the light's back on.
And I'm ready to change.
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