Thursday, December 16, 2010
Eyes give people away, Emily thought. Her mother’s eyes are so beautiful that it is easy to get lost in their beauty, but sometimes they seem vacant. Aaron’s eyes are sweet but hard to read. Although they rarely played together, she sensed that he acknowledged her. Grandma’s eyes are gentle and peaceful. The light blue reminded her of new water flowing from a waterfall before it mixed with the murky earth. When she looked in grandma’s eyes, she felt calm and loved. Her father’s eyes are angry. They constantly move from one object to the next, judging without contemplation. His eyes never relax, and they are never soft. His probing eyes have a determined energy, a prelude to his actions. When his rage flares, she cannot look at his eyes. When he comes home, quick glances at his eyes can predict his mood. It was the best way that she could prepare for inevitable violence that she would endure. Reid’s eyes are playful and mischievous and free. They portray a confidence and joy that is infectious, and in that joy she knew that his life was free of pain. His eyes were easy to read, and held the freedom that she longed for.
I wonder how many of us have studied eyes, and reflect on what they tell us. It is all there, subtle perhaps, but there. Look long enough, and with thoughtfulness, and the soul is there. For Emily, she learns this at a young age, and her heightened sensitivity will be useful to her in coping with the difficulties that she will have to face.