I Like Your Boots

17 Nov

by Jenny Marie

A cane, no, my long cane (I correct myself) sits next to me, I assume they don’t know that they are watching me, but the fact is I don’t need 20/20 vision to know the feeling of eyes on me. I wonder what I look like to them: the weak girl? Someone who needs to be healed? I hope they see a blind woman, who isn’t afraid to use her long cane, who isn’t hiding what makes her different. I would hope they see me as a pretty, funny, smart, and all other things they see other nineteen year olds as.

I stand up holding my cane out. It is a short walk to the bus stop.

But before I get there, a man, older by his tone, asks me if I need any help? I tell him that I know where I am going. He huffs, and he leaves my field of vision, or walks away quickly – with me, I honestly don’t know. I listen to the city around me. The cars, of course, passing by, a woman with high heeled shoes, the laughter of a child, a dog barking. But then I smell it: coffee. I wish I had a phone on me to check the time, but since I don’t I ignore my coffee craving.

I hear a little girl ask her mother why I use a big white stick?

Her mother says “because it helps her see.”

I correct her and tell the little girl it doesn’t help me see, but does help me find the objects I would walk into or trip over.

Then shockingly she says “Mommy, I want one!”

I can almost hear her mother thinking of something to say, but I do it for her. The only way you can use a cane like mine is if you’re blind, and while I am happy, your mommy would be upset if you were blind.

I hear them walk away and the little girl now says she wants a pony.

I hope I didn’t make her think being blind is a bad thing, or make her think I am not happy, but the truth is, the little girl has walked away, and I hope what I came up with was better than what her mind might create, or her mother might say.

I hear a young woman run up, and ask if she missed the bus? I say no, and notice she is about my age.

“I was so worried that I did” she mutters, and then she says something that shocks me, “I love your boots, by the way. Where did you get them?”

Jenny Marie is a blogger, writer and reader. As result of a horse accident, she has CVI: cordial visual impairment, which mostly effects children.” Jenny’s blog is http://blindhorsegirl.wordpress.com/


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