After the examination, the doctor told my parents my sight would get worse and that I would lose my sight finally. On the way home from hospital, no one said a word. One day, would I only imagine the scenery beyond the glass rather than see it?
    That September, I entered middle school. Most nights I had homework that included an armful of books to read. To keep up with other children, I took great trouble to finish the task. With my nose a couple of inches from the page, I was tired easily. What’s worse, after I had read several pages on my own, the words slipped off the page into inky pools.
    However, then I did not have audio books and electronic devices like kids do now. Instead, Mom volunteered to read out loud. Mom worked part-time, cleaned the house, cooked and spent time with Grandma. In spite of being so busy, she showed up in my room like clockwork. She put on her reading glasses. Mom always thought those glasses made her look old. To me, she looked like a teacher.
    In my room, Mom’s voice raced with the ticking of the clock. Being forced to focus on listening, I found a way to keep my marks up and compete with the other kids. When the teacher asked a question, I raised my hand with confidence. Teachers praised me for having a good memory. Reading removed my fear for my failing sight, reading also made me curious about other people’s challenges and how they managed. Though I could not use my eyes to fix on each passage, my mind lit up with every new book.
    True to what the doctor said, the worst came, but thanks to Mom, my sense of hearing now allows me to “see”. This was the most precious gift from a mother to her child.