My memories of learning to read are vague. Thanks to a love of books instilled by my parents and good teachers I learned with few problems and until recently it was only when confronted with a foreign language that I had any difficulty deciphering written words.
But then my eyes started letting me down and I found myself struggling to make out numbers or letters, not because I couldn’t read but because I could no longer see small print easily.
I sought the help of an optometrist who provided me with glasses for reading.
However, because I didn’t need them all the time I went through the frustration of not having them close at hand when I needed them so supplemented the prescription glasses with several cheaper pairs and left one by the computer, another by the phone book, a third by the recipe books a fourth beside the bed and a fifth in my handbag.
If I wore any of them all the time anything in the middle or far distance blurred so I’d put them on, read what I needed to and take them off again but didn’t always put them back where they belonged so in spite of having that many pairs I wasted a lot of time looking for them.
I went back to the optometrist who provided me with lenses that let me see clearly at any distance and now that I’ve trained my eyes to look through the right bit of the lens I’m able to read without difficulty and see further away clearly.
Today I’m grateful for glasses.