Around Town with Marva

By Marva Murphy
2M Communications

Saturday, November 17, 2001

“PRETTY IN PINK”

I had heard briefly about the shortage of children’s eyeglasses from others involved with the eye clinic trips. Sadly, these words took on a whole new meaning when it was my turn to stand in front of the young, eager face of the little girl who couldn’t see to read the sign five feet behind me on the wall.

Of all the thousands of pairs of glasses we brought with us, perhaps less than one percent was for children. I soon learned that when I went to the table with all the glasses sorted by prescription in boxes, there was but the remotest of chances that I would find the pair needed. It took all I could muster in order to smile when the young children and their hopeful parents stepped up to our table for their turn.

When we broke for lunch on our first day, I asked Lead Dr. Leila Chow if there was an immediate resolve to this problem. She told me that we should try and find a pair of glasses with frames to fit and forget trying to match the prescription, noting, “This is the best we can do!” The hope was that the Leones de Puerto Vallarta would help with the cost of having lenses made, but we could at least, reduce the cost by providing frames. It seemed like a reasonable solution, but to the children, it was much like getting a long awaited bicycle, and discovering it had no pedals, seat or handlebars.

Every time, a child approached the table, it became a group effort to scour the boxes for any children’s glasses we could find mixed in. Not long after, I labeled one solitary box to hold any child’s glasses we came across. The one box remained only partially full the entire time.

The second and final day of the clinic, we broke for lunch, but not before making an executive decision. We were scheduled to see 525 people over the two-day period. As we gathered for lunch, Dr. Chow told us we had less than 75 registered people left to see, but more were waiting to sign up. Consensus came easily and quickly. Dr. Chow informed our “righthands”, the volunteers of the Leones club, to register those waiting. Having already tested over 450 in the one and a half days, we finished out the afternoon by testing another 153.

I met Mama, a 91-year-old woman, aided by her daughter late in the day. She was but one of the 526 people who required glasses after testing, and had never owned a pair of glasses. In my wildest dreams, I could not fathom what the last 45 years of her life must have been like, functioning without the aid of glasses. As indicated, most over 40 encounter a gradual and continual loss of close-up vision. Bifocals often enter the picture a few years later, necessary to see both far and near. What must the world have looked like through her aging eyes over all these years?! Miraculously, we found a pair of bifocals to fit her prescription after almost an hour of hunting and testing by two others and myself. Mama’s daughter and I helped her walk over to a nearby staircase as she wore her new bifocals. I tried to explain in my botched up Spanish and the international language of show and tell, the necessity of being careful the first several days when adjusting to her new eyeglasses, especially on stairs. Most of the time, she spoke very softly to her daughter, but no one could mistake the gracious, deep smile of gratitude and the gently whispered “gracias” as she bid good-bye.

This poignant moment made a lasting impression on us all, but for me, I will never forget the quiet, shy little girl who answered my questions through her Mother, never speaking directly to me. Shock took hold for 5 seconds when I discovered, unlike all the other children seen that day, I actually had a pair of glasses to fit her prescription for distance vision. Not only did they fit her prescription, but also they were pretty, pink glasses and looked adorable on her face. I was thrilled, but for some reason, she was not. Her Mother spent many minutes trying to convince her to try the glasses on. When she did, they remained on her face for but a moment, acknowledging she could see clearly and then, as if in a state of rebellion, she quickly took them off. Obviously, I was not privy to the dynamics of this behavior, but it wasn’t too difficult to understand that the quiet, shy, little girl was not happy about the concept of wearing glasses.

As they walked away the little girl, still with a slight scowl on her face, wore her new glasses at the insistence of her Mother. I went about my work, tending to the next client, when I happened to glance up in their direction. I observed a brief interaction that made my day, my week and my month. The quiet, shy, little girl’s Mother took her glasses from her to check something. Not seconds after her glasses had been removed, the little girl reached out and willfully took them back. She put them on her face and as she walked slowly out the door, she looked at the floor, at the ceiling, at the people across the room, and in each direction, like a submarine captain at his periscope – getting a close-up, clear view of everything. Her Mother smiled knowingly, and guided her to the doorway, while the quiet, shy, little girl discovered the world around her, able to see clearly, perhaps for the first time in her life, through the lenses of her new pretty, pink glasses.

UPCOMING: Saying good-bye and an E ticket ride through the backroads.

You may write to Marva Murphy at prjournalist_2m@yahoo.com.