2023 Short Story & Essay Contest: Third Place, Adult Essay Contest
She was the little sister that we had yearned for to make our family complete. Friends and family welcomed her, then reacted to her imperfection. “I didn’t know she was going to be blind!” they whispered.
Before coming to the U.S., she didn’t know that she was blind in one eye, even though she’d been that way since birth. When we’d introduced her to her new bedroom, she’d run right past the mirror. Maybe the orphanage in Shanghai didn’t have mirrors.
She started kindergarten, and comments from classmates spurred her curiosity. When she finally looked in the mirror and noticed the milky blindness of her left eye she said, “Look! I have one brown eye and one blue eye!”
We grew uncomfortable with the way people treated her. Friends and strangers offered sympathy and lowered their expectations. Existing in a world that considered her flawed might keep her from achieving amazing things. So, after a year, we got her a prosthetic eye. When the eye was ready, the doctor placed it in her left eye socket and swiveled her chair around for us to see. I wept with joy at her beauty and completeness. Now, the playdate and birthday party invitations would finally arrive. Now, life would really give our daughter a fair chance.
Later, I was parading my two beautiful daughters through a department store. A new eye merited some new clothes.
“Ping!” the eye went rolling across the floor and under a display rack. I lay on my stomach to retrieve it, then counseled her about treating her new eye like a piece of fine jewelry.
The next week, the day care provider complained. “Mom,” she said, “the new eye is being removed and displayed on the table for all the kids to see.”
That night, we admired the eye in the mirror and spoke again about taking care of it. I explained that leaving the eye in would make her look just like everyone else.
“But,” she countered, “a removable eye makes me more interesting!”
Time passed and she grew accustomed to the eye. She moved to middle school where new classmates and teachers were unaware of her prosthetic eye. One day, she misplaced the eye and refused to go to school. She began sleeping with the eye in so that she’d always be ready.
Now, she’s a high school senior. She’s an excellent scholar and athlete, and is being recruited by universities across the U.S. She’s a devoted friend, and a loving daughter and sister. She’s happy and amazing, and she chooses not to wear her eye most of the time. And I weep with joy at her beauty and completeness.
