There was once a little old man who went to stay at a nursing home for the blind. He had no family left, and had spent the last few years in different institutions.
He waited patiently in the waiting room until a nurse gently nudged him to get up from his chair. “Good morning, Mr. Wallace” she said. “If you are ready, we can go up to your room now.”
Mr. Wallace smiled sweetly and sighed. “I just can’t wait.” He said, “It’s going to be wonderful to stay in such a beautiful room.”
The nurse smiled back and led him to the elevator. On the way up, she attempted to describe the room and all that was in it; Mr. Wallace would never see those things, but it would probably comfort him to know what was waiting for him.
“I love it. I just love it,” said Mr. Wallace.
The nurse couldn’t help smiling. “But Mr. Wallace, how can you so passionately love something you haven’t seen and that you will never see?”
“Because, dear child” said Mr. Wallace, “I have already decided that I like it. I know it’s there, whether I can see it or not. We give value only to that which we see, and discredit that which we do not see. I don’t see air, yet I’m still breathing and happy to be alive. I can’t hold air but I know it’s there. Some of the things we don’t see are the greatest gifts we are ever given.”
What we see, feel, and hear is only a fraction of what’s truly there.