The passengers on the bus watched sympathetically as the attractive young woman with the white cane made her way carefully up the steps.

She paid the driver and, using her hands to feel the location of the seats,walked down the aisle and found the seat he’d told her was empty.

Then she settled in, placed her briefcase on her lap and rested her cane against her leg. It had been a year since Susan, 34, became blind. Due to a medical misdiagnosis she had been rendered sightless, and she was suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, fustration and self-pity. And all she had to cling to was her husband, Mark. Mark was an Air Force officer and he loved Susan with all his heart.

When she first lost her sight, he watched her sink into despair and was determined to help his wife gain the strength and confidence she needed to become independent again. Finally, Susan felt ready to return to her job, but how would she get there? She used to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the city by herself.

Mark volunteered to drive her to work each day, even though they worked at opposite ends of the city. At first, this comforted Susan, and fulfilled Mark’s need to protect his sightless wife who was so insecure about performing the slightest task.

Soon, however, Mark realized the arrangement wasn’t working. Susan is going to have to start taking the bus again, he admitted to himself. But she was still so fragile, so angry – how would she react? Just as he predicted, Susan was horrified at the idea of taking the bus again.

“I’m blind!”, she responded bitterly. “How am I supposed to know where I am going? I feel like you’re abandoning me.”

Mark’s heart broke to hear these words, but he knew what had to be done. He promised Susan that each morning and evening he would ride the bus with her, for as long as it took, until she got the hang of it. And that is exactly what happpened. For two solid weeks, Mark, military uniform and all, accompanied Susan to and from work each day. He taught her how to rely on her other senses, specifically her hearing, to determine where she was and how to adapt to her new environment. He helped her befriend the bus drivers who could watch out for her, and save her a seat. Finally, Susan decided that she was ready to try the trip on her own.

Monday morning arrived, and before she left, she threw her arms around Mark, her temporary bus-riding companion, her husband, and her best friend. Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude for his loyalty, his patience, and his love. She said good-bye, and for the first time, they went their separate ways.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday… Each day on her own went perfectly, and Susan had never felt better. She was doing it! She was going to work all by herself.

On one Friday morning, Susan took the bus to work as usual. As she was paying the fare to exit the bus, the driver said, “Boy, I sure do envy you.” Susan wasn’t sure if the driver was speaking to her or not. After all, who on earth would ever envy a blind woman who had struggled just to find the courage to live for the past year? Curious, she asked the driver, “Why do you say that you envy me?” The driver responded, “It must feel good to be taken care of and protected like you are.”

Susan had no idea what the driver was talking about, and again asked, “What do you mean?”

The driver answered, “You know, every morning for the past month, a fine-looking gentleman in a military uniform has been standing across the corner watching you as you get off the bus. He makes sure you cross the street safely and he watches until you enter your office building. Then he blows you a kiss, gives you a little salute and walks away. You are one lucky lady.”

I never thought I could ever get over the death of Julia. She is everything in my life, and she is even more important than myself. The time she spent in the hospital was the most painful moment in our life. I knew that she feels a great deal of pain incurred by the cancerous cells in her body, but she never once shown the pain in front of me; this, I have always believed that she was trying to prevent me from seeing her suffers so that I will not feel sad.

For me, every time I got to see her, I was worried that that might be the very last time I would be seeing her; so I treasure every moment I spent with her. Every time when I visited her in the hospital, I would hold her hand and then we would just chat and act like everything was normal.

Many would have thought that we are running away from reality. We never were. We just love each other so deeply so that we did not want to see the other party being sad. It would be very difficult for me to describe how we felt, you have to feel it yourself to know exactly what I mean by that.

The day I lost her to cancer … it still lives so vividly in my mind; I could never forget the way she struggled to breath the last breathe. The pain must be killing her. It really hurts me to see her suffered. How I wished I could bear part, if not all her pain she had to undergo. But the only thing I could do was to watch her losing her battle to death. I held on to her hand as usual until she left … without me.

The very next moment she was gone, I just didn’t know what to do with myself … didn’t know just what to do. I was so used to doing everything with her and making plan for two. Suddenly, I felt lost. There was no light to guide me. She was not only a guide but had been my closest soul companion. The first thing that came to my mind then was to leave this place with her; I can’t bear to let her go on this journey alone or should I say I can’t leave without her. And so, I tried to follow her. But I am glad that I live till today. She would never have agreed to the idea of me going with her; she would have wanted me to carry on with my life.

I am grateful to John for discovering my act of foolishness. He sent me to a psychiatrist shortly after that incident, saying that I needed professional help. I didn’t want to argue with him then, and so I just go for the therapy.

The therapy didn’t help a bit. I could not live a normal life. I could not get Julia out of my mind. Everything I do, her images would be there. Somehow, subconsciously, she seems pretty much alive to me. I could see her making breakfast every alternate morning and when it was my turn to make breakfast, I would always make an extra set for her. I could also see her cutting the grasses and tending to our garden of roses besides me every weekend.

And she would still sit by my side to watch sunset with me every evening. All this I never tell anyone; all they would say would be,” she is dead already and you are probably having illusions.” Maybe the main reason why I never tell anyone is that I can’t accept the fact that they’re right, she’s dead.

All these things carry on for two to three years. During that period, I even played the game we invented together called ‘Connection’. Whenever anyone of us wants to talk, the party whom initiated would say: “connect?” then the other party will say: “connected’. Every time, I would imagine her saying “connected” and I would start to tell her all the things I had done and how much I had missed her.

It went on for two to three years until … I not quite sure what actually hits me, but one night, she appeared in my dreams and we talked about lots of things, and I can’t wait to tell her all the things I did. Suddenly, she held on to my hand, looked me in my eyes and with tears in her eyes, she said,” Ben, please wake up, I’m dead already. It hurts me, more than you know, knowing that you are wasting your time. Please, for my sake, wake up.” I woke up crying in my bed that morning, realizing how foolish I actually am. And I started to live my life once again.

I realized that it hurts a lot to see the one that we love so dearly passed away, and it’s never easy to get over someone whom had once shared our life. But getting over someone doesn’t mean forgetting that person. We place them close to us, here in our heart to always remember them. And whenever we think of them, we will just reach into our heart for the image of them. In so doing, they live forever. But the most important things would be for us to carry on with our life so as not to disappoint them.

On the last day before Christmas, I hurried to go to the supermarket to buy the remaining of the gift I didn’t manage to buy earlier.

When I saw all the people there, I started to complain to myself, “It is going to take forever here and I still have so many other places to go. Christmas really is getting more and more annoying every year. How I wish I could just lie down, go to sleep and only wake up after it…”

Nonetheless, I made my way to the toy section, and there I started to curse the prices, wondering if after all kids really play with such expensive toys.

While looking in the toy section, I noticed a small boy of about 5 years old, pressing a doll against his chest. He kept on touching the hair of the doll and looked so sad. I wondered who was this doll for. Then the little boy turned to the old woman next to him, “Granny, are you sure I don’t have enough money?”

The old lady replied, “You know that you don’t have enough money to buy this doll, my dear.”

Then she asked him to stay here for 5 minutes while she went to look around. She left quickly. The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.

Finally, I started to walk toward him and I asked him who did he want to give this doll to. “It is the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for this Christmas. She was so sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her.”

I replied to him that may be Santa Claus will bring it to her, after all, and not to worry. But he replied to me sadly. “No, Santa Claus cannot bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mother so that she can give it to her when she goes there.”His eyes were so sad while saying this. “My sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that Mummy will also go to see God very soon, so I thought that she could bring the doll with her to give it to my sister.”

My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said, “I told daddy to tell mummy not to go yet. I asked him to wait until I come back from the supermarket.”

Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me, “I also want mummy to take this photo with her so that she will not forget me.” I love my mummy and I wish she doesn’t have to leave me but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister.”

Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly. I quickly reached for my wallet and took a few notes and said to the boy, “What if we checked again, just in case if you have enough money?”

“Ok,” he said. “I hope that I have enough.”

I added some of my money to his without him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll, and even some spare money.

The little boy said, “Thank you God for giving me enough money.” Then he looked at me and added, “I asked yesterday before I slept for God to make sure I have enough money to buy this doll so that mummy can give it to my sister. He heard me.” “I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mummy, but I didn’t dare to ask God too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and the white rose.”

“You know, my mummy loves white rose.”

A few minutes later, the old lady came again and I left with my trolley. I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started. I couldn’t get the little boy out of my mind.

Then I remembered a local newspaper article 2 days ago, which mentioned of a drunk man in a truck who hit a car where there was one young lady and a little girl. The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-assisting machine, because the young lady would not be able to get out of the coma.

Was this the family of the little boy?

Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the newspaper that the young lady had passed away. I couldn’t stop myself and went to buy a bunch of white roses and I went to the mortuary where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see and make last wish before burial.

She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest.

I am a mother of three (ages 14, 12, 3) and have recently completed my college degree. The last class I had to take was Sociology. The teacher was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every human being had been graced with. Her last project of the term was called “Smile.”

The class was asked to go out and smile at three people and document their reaction. I am a very friendly person and always smile at everyone and say, hello anyway … so, I thought, this would be a piece of cake, literally. Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, and I went out to McDonalds, one crisp March morning. It was just our way of sharing special playtime with our son.

We were standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone around us began to back away, and then even my husband did. I did not move an inch … an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me as I turned to see why they had moved. As I turned around I smelled a horrible “dirty body smell” and there standing behind me were two poor homeless men. As I looked down at the short gentleman, close to me, he was “smiling”. His beautiful sky blue eyes were full of God’s Light as he searched for acceptance. He said, “Good day” as he counted the few coins he had been clutching.

The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. I realized the second man was mentally deficient and the blue-eyed gentle man was his salvation. I held my tears … as I stood there with them. The young lady at the counter asked him what they wanted. He said, “Coffee is all Miss” because that was all they could afford. To sit in the restaurant and warm up, they had to buy something, and they just wanted to be warm.Then I really felt it … the compulsion was so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with the blue eyes. That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were set on me … judging my every action.

I smiled and asked the young lady behind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate tray. I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen as a resting spot. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the blue-eyed gentleman’s cold hand. He looked up at me, with tears in his eyes, and said, “Thank you.” I leaned over, began to pat his hand and said, “I did not do this for you … God is here working through me to give you hope.” I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son.

When I sat down my husband smiled at me and said, “That is why God gave you to me honey … to give me hope.” We held hands for a moment and at that time we knew that only because of the Grace that we had been given that we were able to give. That day showed me the pure Light of God’s sweet love. I returned to college, on the last evening of class, with this story in hand. I turned in “my project” and the instructor read it … then she looked up at me and said, “Can I share this?” I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class.

She began to read and that is when I knew that we, as human beings and being part of God, share this need to heal people and be healed. In my own way I had touched the people at McDonalds, my husband, son, instructor, and every soul that shared the classroom on the last night I spent as a college student. I graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever learn … UNCONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE.

Much love and compassion sent to each and every person who may read this and learn how to Love People and Use Things – Not Love Things and Use People.