“His eyes are open!” Clara was sitting on the couch with her little brother draped across her lap.
“Now his eyes are closed! Come look! He closed his eyes!” Lydia sat beside her sister clapping and repeating each revelation.
“Come quick! His eyes are open again! He’s looking around!” and then a moment later, “Now he’s looking at me! Come watch! He’s looking at the ceiling! Now they are closed again!”
This continued for quite some time. “His eyes are still closed. Oh, now he’s sticking his tongue out! Uh oh! Now he’s crying!”
And this is how Gideon entered the world. He first came aware of the world under the impression that he was the most interesting episode of Nature ever recorded. His every move narrated and broadcast to anyone in earshot. Heralded from the street corners by little girls selling the morning paper. His leg kicks were measured and documented. His blinking timed. His eyelashes counted. Every exhale of his breath was collected like gold from a cool stream. He was held up to the light, glistening, and glowing. his first visions were that of joyously tearful toothy grins from a halo of four prospectors that had hoped for the promise of this great wealth, but never believed they would ever find the bend in the stream that would lead them to such a prize.
Perhaps this adoring entourage of family will someday be his biggest crutch. He will eventually venture out and be forced to learn the hard truth that the rest of the world does not care as much about the current status of his eyes. The harsh world will teach him that his breath is not gold, but he is made out of common clay the same as everyone else.
But for these days of his youth, inside the delicate walls of this family, I am proud that my son will be made to shine under such a glorious adoring light, because I believe this is what all children deserve.