Beauty is in the Eyes of the Beholder

I was reading this book that gives a simple exercise on how we seem not to see some things even if these are already near our line of vision. I tried and tried to achieve the desirable outcome. Supposedly, I should not be seeing a part of the picture as I draw it nearer my eyes. I tried and tried but to no avail. Perhaps, it had something to do with the material I was holding. Perhaps I did not quite understand the instruction. Or maybe it has something to do with my eyes.

I wear a reading glass.

So I tried wearing my reading glass to see if I could see the point of the exercise. Still, I got the same results. Nothing. I could see clearly. Nothing gets blurred. Nothing disappears.

Or maybe I should not be wearing my reading glass. So I tried again without my reading glass and again and again. Still nothing happened. But why? Am I a freak? Others who read that book affirmed the accuracy of the exercise. Freaky me!

Then I remembered that way back when I was still in my Elementary and High School years, I was always hurt when classmates, friends, or neighbors call me in our native language, “Budlat!” That means “Big eyes” in a discomforting way. It was meant more as an insult than an appreciation of my big eyes. Back then I got hurt. I would just keep quiet. I knew then that what they meant was that I was not pretty or was not attractive because I had such big eyes. Budlat!

So maybe, that exercise of blurring the field just did not work out with me because I have such big eyes.

Speaking of being “Budlat,” I do not get hurt anymore. I appreciate the fact that I have such big eyes. They may not make me pretty but they give me good vision. I can see from the periphery and I have a wider range of seeing the things around me; that is from my point of view.

One time I was in church to attend the daily mass. I usually cry when I pray in church. As I was praying, Jesus whispered to me, “Give a gift to the child at your front. It is his birthday, today.” I usually do not bring money to church except only for the money I give for the Offering. I always have that money in my left pocket. But on that particular day, I had money in my right pocket as well. So when I heard the whisper of Jesus, I opened my eyes and I saw the little boy in the front pew. He looked back at me with his big black eyes. He smiled. I got the money from my right pocket and gave it to the little boy. He was there with his mother and a baby in the mother’s arms. His mother looked back and with a big smile she said, “Thank you,” tearfully. I softly said to the little boy, “Happy birthday!” The mother cried. I bowed my head and folded my arms in prayer.

Big eyes! We had the same big eyes. He looked handsome with his big eyes. I wonder if I look pretty, too, with my big eyes. But it does not matter, though. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. I am grateful with my two big eyes and I do not mind people calling me “Budlat.” I am just very grateful that God gave me these two big eyes that do not blur and lose focus even if people tell me to do so.

I thank God for being Budlat. It is a gift.