Reflection from Rachel Doyle on the 2010 Mission

As a member of the vision group for our team, I worked daily with all patients we saw. While it was helpful to give readers to those needing them, it was particularly gratifying to find a bifocal that enabled an elderly person, not only to see again for distance, but especially giving the person the ability to read, sew and do other close work they had been unable to do.
I had a 75 year old woman who did not know how to read but who wanted to be able to sew and mend for her family. It took awhile while I tried different combinations of her basic prescription, but eventually I found a pair of glasses that gave her good distance vision as well as close up sight. When she finally looked up from seeing print clearly (although she could not read the letters) her face broke into a huge smile. The translator said the woman kept saying over and over “I can see! I can see!” As she stood up to leave, she hugged me and gave me blessings for making her world bright again.
She was just one of many elderly men and women whom I worked with and each one was so very grateful to have the gift of sight returned to them.

Reflection from Kevin Kelly on the 2010 Mission

From Kevin who worked in vision: <
Two things happened over the course of the week that I will take with me for the rest of my life. One came on Friday at our last village. After lunch, in the vision room, I felt a tug on my shorts and turned around to see a young boy holding out his hand, offering me a piece of candy. I took the piece of candy and asked him to "watch it" (mira esto) and then I did a slight-of-hand trick and pulled the piece of candy out of his ear. He laughed so whole-heartedly that within seconds, the room was filled with other children raising their hands, asking me to do the trick again and again. Each time it was met with the same laughs and the same smiles. Then I did the trick and slipped the candy into my pocket, the children were clueless. They checked both of my hands and were shocked the candy wasn't there. Then, giddy with excitement, they immediately began checking each other's ears to see where the candy was hidden. While this was happening I reached into my pocket, grabbed the candy, found the first boy and pulled it out of his other ear and gave it back to him. The laughter was overwhelming and is something I won't soon forget.
The second story is much more personal. On the first day at our first village, I really didn't know what to expect. We used black trash bags to tape off the windows and make the vision room as dark as possible. Already a warm day, the temperature rose quickly. Again after lunch, a young boy hesitated to walk in the door, tentatively following his mother who smiled warmly at all of us. The boy wasn't as welcoming, and I asked him to sit. Squinting, he shied away from any greeting attempt and sat motionless in the chair. I picked up the largest pair of coke-bottle glasses that we had. A big, bulky, plastic, Clark Griswold pair of spectacles that would undoubtedly consume most of the boy's face. I put them on the boy who blinked hard, twice, and smiled arguably one of the biggest smiles ever recorded. His head was immediately on a swivel, taking in every aspect of the room. He jumped up and sprinted out the door, taking in everything he'd always missed. We helped him see the world for the very first time, and although he was dirty, woefully impoverished and behind a cultural eight-ball, I've never seen anyone happier. It was the first day of the rest of his life. That day was a great day. His name was Moe'.

Vision Mission, El Salvador

There was an older man wearing a straw hat in Bajo Lempa, El Salvador. He was brought to the vision team by one of the mental health counselors. He had come to her for depression and it soon became evident that he was depressed because he could no longer work. He was a tailor. He pulled out his crooked, taped up but still hanging by a thread glasses and said he just could no longer see to work. We handed the glasses over to the ophthalmologist who carefully checked the prescription of the lenses. She wrote down the numbers and we looked over the mass of piled glasses on the floor until we found, not a close fit, but one with the exact prescription. We handed the masculine looking pair of glasses to the man who put them on and smiled, and then hugged us.