Perfect Vision
PERFECT VISION – October 16, 2024 – Hattiesburg, Mississippi, USA
Maybe Delilah Montgomery was born with a competitive streak and maybe it was something she learned. Her mother said she arrived in the world swinging her tiny fists like a boxer. She was a middle child and before starting Kindergarten, her parents moved four times, started six new jobs, and finished two college degrees. They had many demands on their attention, so it was no big surprise that they completely forgot about Delilah’s fourth birthday.
As a little girl, Delilah had some concept of birthdays as special and rewarding events. She had a vague idea about when hers was supposed to arrive but did not know enough about calendars to realize it came and went without anyone noticing. Two weeks after the fact, her mother was standing in line at a supermarket when she suddenly remembered the birthday after seeing the current date flash on an electronic display. She looked down at her daughter and for a split-second wondered if she could simply skip a celebration for that year. Then she came to her senses and announced, “Delilah, it’s your birthday!”
With no more buildup than that, they drove from the supermarket to a pizza restaurant. Delilah’s mom made some frantic phone calls and within half an hour, the rest of her family was sitting next to her and congratulating her on turning four. Her dad put a candle in an ice cream cone and they sang the Happy Birthday song. Then he took her to a toy store and she got to pick anything she wanted. She chose a plastic animal collection and took it home. It was not called a present and was never covered in wrapping paper.
Delilah liked the plastic animals but knew something was wrong. Her birthday was not like her older sister’s or younger brother’s. She wondered what she had done wrong and decided she would fight to show she was as good as they were.
When she started school, Delilah immediately discovered it was filled with new ways to prove herself. She drew and colored on lots of paper. She made art projects with scissors and string and learned to write letters and numbers. When she did things well, her teacher put stars and smiley faces next to her name. Sometimes she wrote “A+” or Delilah’s favorite, “100%”. Delilah took every piece of paper home and made sure they were acknowledged by her mom.
Little Delilah grew addicted to the praise brought by the school papers. Every assignment was a chance to earn another 100% and add something to the rotating collection displayed on her refrigerator door. When she moved to first, second, and then third grade, she met new teachers and they were all willing to add A+ and 100% to her papers. She sat right up front in class and raised her hand as much as possible so she could not be forgotten.
By the time she reached third grade, Delilah found another reason for sitting up front – the chalk board and projector screen kept getting fuzzier. Her teacher was a big believer in writing things down and handwriting practice. Even from her seat near the board, Delilah squinted to see the letters she was supposed to copy. She did not dare admit her eyes were broken because that might mean her teacher would no longer write A+ and 100% on her pages. She began dreading work on the board and much preferred when her teacher handed out typed pages that were easier to see. When something on the board was written in especially small letters, Delilah lingered during recess to get a closer look.
“Are you having trouble seeing the board?” her teacher asked after noticing Delilah staring at a string of letters instead of following her friends to the playground.
Delilah vigorously shook her head. “No! I just wanted to check something. And look at your handwriting. I want mine to be as nice as yours.”
Her teacher nodded suspiciously but did not ask more questions. She knew any vision problems would be flagged by the school nurse during an upcoming exam. She announced the hearing and eye tests to her class that very afternoon.
“You’ll all go to the cafeteria for a checkup. Remember to be polite. Say please and thank you.”
When the third-graders were escorted to the cafeteria, they found a make-shift examination area formed by black curtains hanging from metal poles. Folding chairs encircled the curtains and the children were told to choose one of the chairs. When a student at the front of the chair line was invited into the examination area, everyone behind them was supposed to move up a chair.
It was an exciting time for the class. They were in an unusual environment and chair swapping felt like a game. The entire class giggled back and forth except for Delilah. She worried about the upcoming tests and if they would be worth reporting to her mom.
The hearing check came first. When it was her turn, Delilah walked into the curtained-off area where two adults sat behind a machine with dials and switches. Delilah handed them a piece of paper that listed her name. The adults explained that Delilah would put on a pair of headphones and listen for sounds. When she heard a sound in her left ear, she was to hold up her left hand. For a sound in her right ear, she would hold up her right hand. Delilah nodded to show she understood.
With the headphone over her ears, Delilah concentrated. All was silent until she heard beeps coming from the machine. Some were high pitched and some low. Delilah raised and lowered her hands and tried not to miss a sound, no matter how quiet. When she finished, one of the adults reached for the headphones and complimented Delilah on her hearing.
“You’ve got ears like a rabbit,” the adult said. She handed Delilah a certificate. The word “perfect” was circled next to an illustration of both her left and right ear. “You can show that to your parents,” the ear tester said.
Delilah moved to a new set of chairs outside the curtains and proudly studied the certificate, especially the words “perfect” next to the ear drawings. This was definitely something worth sharing with her mom. As Delilah sat there, she heard people talking on the other side of the curtain about the next test, the eye test. Her heart pounded faster and her hands felt hot and wet. She did not trust her blurry eyes to get perfect scores like her ears. If she got an eye certificate that said she could not see right, she could not show it to her mom. She would also have to hide the hearing certificate because her mom would probably know ear and eye tests happened together. If she showed the perfect ear scores her mom would ask to see the eye scores.
As Delilah worried, she kept switching chairs and getting closer to the eye test. Through the curtain behind her, she heard the conversation between the eye testers and a girl from her class.
“What letter do you see on the first line?”
“E”
“How about the second line?”
“F P”
The tester asked about more letters and the girl read until she reached the final line. “P E Z O L C F T D.” Delilah concentrated. She blocked out the giggles in the room and listened closely as more classmates read out the letters. By the time it was her turn, she had them memorized.
“I need you to close one eye and look at the chart on the wall,” the school nurse said to Delilah.
Delilah turned toward the blurry letters on the chart. She could decipher only the top few rows.
“Can you tell me the first letter?”
“E”
“How about the next line?”
“F P”
The nurse continued to say “next line” and Delilah continued reciting the letters she had memorized.
“Very good,” the nurse concluded. “Now let’s try the other eye.”
They repeated the exercised before the nurse rated both Delilah’s eyes as excellent. The adult sitting next to the nurse handed Delilah an eye certificate marked “perfect”. She smiled happily and when she was back in her classroom, slipped both her certificates carefully into her backpack for the journey home.
Later that afternoon, knowing she had her mom’s full attention, Delilah unveiled her latest school accomplishments. First, she presented the A+ scores from a spelling test and math worksheet. Then she handed over the ear and eye papers.
“These say I’m perfect too.”
“Oh wow. Very nice. My A+ girl.”
Delilah’s mom removed some older papers from the refrigerator to make room for the latest results. Delilah watched with satisfaction from across the kitchen. As her mom moved magnets around to hold the eye test results in place, she hesitated and chuckled.
“Look at this. Someone misspelled your name.”
“Where?”
“Right here on your vision certificate. Look how it’s spelled.”
Delilah squinted to see the blurry letters printed on the paper. Her mom stared back at her with the same suspicious face worn by her teacher earlier that day.
“Can’t you see these letters?”
“Yes.”
“Then what do they spell?”
Delilah did not want her mother thinking she had bad eyes. She quickly remembered the most common way people misspelled her name. “D A L I L A.”
“Nope. That’s not what this says. How about these letters? Can you read them? Without squinting.”
Delilah struggled as her mom conducted an impromptu vision test with things hanging on the refrigerator.
“I don’t get it. Why does the school think you have perfect vision when you can’t see ten feet in front of you?”
Delilah dropped her head in disappointment and started to cry. “I didn’t want you to know. I memorized the letters so you would still think I was perfect.”
Her mother suddenly realized her little girl was carrying around a burden heavier than her narrow shoulders could bear. “Oh honey. You don’t have to be perfect. No one’s perfect. I love you for everything you are. It’s not your fault if your eyes don’t work just right.”
“It’s not?”
“Of course, it’s not. Have you been struggling with fuzzy letters for a while?”
“Yes.”
“Fuzzy letters and you still do such great work. You truly are my A+ girl.” Delilah’s mom stopped herself and added, “And I’d love you the same no matter how you did at school.”
“You won’t forget about me?”
“Never, ever. Now we better make an appointment with an eye doctor. You’ll soon find out how much easier life is when you can see clearly.”
Please remember to subscribe for weekly reminders about new stories. You can subscribe by clicking here: Subscribe. You can also follow new content on any Podcast platform or on YouTube. For the full list of stories, return Home.