Jesus is my Optometrist

Jesus is my Optometrist

We were on our way to the Southern College of Optometry. A short walk from Manna House.  We talked as we walked, about glasses and about our lives.

“I got my first pair of glasses when I was in the 4^th grade,” I said.

“I got my first glasses when I was in 9^th grade. I lost them when I was in 12^th grade. I haven’t had glasses since” Mary (not her real name) shared.

“When was that?” I asked.

“1980. Lord, a long time ago.”

The other guest, Harold (also not his real name), said, “I got mine later, when I was an adult. My eyes just haven’t kept up.”

Being the theological type, I mentioned that Jesus thought people should be able to see. He went around healing blind people. I wanted to give some praise to the Southern College of Optometry for the free eye exams so I added, “Seems like the folks helping you all get glasses are like Jesus.”

“Yes sir,” Harold said, “Jesus is my optometrist.”

“That’s a good one,” Mary said laughing, “Jesus is my optometrist too!”

We got to the Southern College and briefly waited before being served.

Mary told me while we sat, “When I get my glasses I won’t bump into things anymore. I really can’t see very well at all. See this bruise on my arm? I got this one yesterday when I ran into a table where I live.”  

Mary was called to come and pick out her frames. Harold waited to be called to get his glasses.

“I picked out some frames that didn’t cost too much. The frames aren’t gonna help me see anyway” he told me.

Then Harold was called. Mary returned.

“I saw them Gucci and Coach frames,” she said. “Why do people spend so much money? Mine are plain and simple. That’s what I like. I’d be afraid to lose my glasses if they cost so much.”

I went with her and paid for the frames. She was right. She had picked inexpensive but sturdy frames.

Shortly after we were done, Harold came out with his new glasses. He had a big smile on his face.

“I can see again! I can see again!”

He was excited like a child on Christmas morning. We went to settle his account, but somehow everything was already settled.

“You’re free to go. It’s all paid,” the cashier told us.

“I guess they covered what my insurance didn’t,” Harold said referring to the Southern College of Optometry. “I was supposed to owe a hundred dollars. Now Manna House don’t have to pay.”

I didn’t argue with the cashier, and off we went.

I asked if he wanted to get a picture of him with his new glasses. He most certainly did. So next time he comes to Manna House I can give him the picture of him standing in front of the Southern College of Optometry with his new glasses.

Mary’s glasses will come in next week. She was anticipating how the glasses will change her life.

“I am most happy because I’ll be able to read my Bible. I’m gonna read and read. And I’ll be able to see far away. I won’t have to squint so much. Lord, it will all be good!”

“Jesus is my optometrist,” Harold had said. Indeed, it will all be good.