Once upon a time, just around when I turned seven, my teacher suggested to my folks that I should have my eyes checked.

Lo and behold, the discovery was made that I was very near-sighted. That’s when I got my first pair of glasses.

I remember coming home the day we picked up my glasses. We drove through winding New England roads, where the sun glints between tree branches and leaves, and I discovered, for the very first time, that it was possible to see individual leaves on trees. What always looked to me, from a distance, like a kid’s cartoon of a tree – you know the type, with a brown trunk topped with green blobs – now came to life, with quivering leaves and delicate branches.

That was the best ride home ever! I could see! And while, before, I didn’t know what I was missing, now, I was completely enchanted by it. Trees with leaves. What a wonder!

My enthusiasm for sight only got better as that first week in glasses went by. TV? Oh, yeah! I could sit on the couch and still see it. Chalkboards and bulletin boards at school actually had some kind of meaning to me now. And every ride home from school was deliciously detailed with distant houses, farms, people, and animals.

Then, Sunday rolled around and we went to church. Our church had a big stained glass rose window at the front. Before glasses, it was a kaleidoscope of blurred colors running over on each other like backlit watercolors all merging on the same round canvas. I thought it was beautiful! So much color!

When I saw it with glasses for the first time, though, I was floored. There were pictures in it! Saints and angels and stories, all there in a glorious arrangement that I could see for the first time.

Eyes are important. In most cases, they are the primary receptors of sensory information for us. As we get older, our eyes change quite a bit, and that can have a huge effect on what we can and can’t do, comfortably, with our needlework.