A blind man was sitting on a park bench enjoying the summer breeze. The bench was near the playground and a bunch of loud kindergarteners were playing kickball. The man listened to their shill yells and giggles as he enjoyed the sun's warmth on his face.
The kids saw the man. With whispers and giggles that carried to the blind man's ears they discussed him and his disability. Each child ran a judgement based on what they saw, which they shared with each other.
“Do you see his eyes?”
“Eww! He looks scary.”
“What does he think he's looking at?”
“What a freak!”
The grownup nearby interrupted the revelry.
“Okay, kids. Enough gawking. Play ball.”
The blind man was immediately forgotten and the kids ran to the opposite end of the field. There was a muffled thump one of the kindergarteners kicked the ball. The ball landed and began rolling. It stopped, bouncing against the feet of the blind man.
He folded his white cane up and placed it on the seat next to him. He leaned down and felt around, his hands finding the ball. He picked it up and rubbed his hands against the rough plastic, feeling the dirt and grass embedded in the ball. He rubbed it first on one side, then the other side trying to fix the shape of the ball in his mind.
Nearby the kids who wanted their ball had to face their fears. The man heard their hushed conversations but decided to ignore them as they had ignored his feelings earlier. Yet, he still heard their conversations...
“We need our ball.”
“I'm not getting it. He's scary!”
“His eyes seem to follow you wherever you look...”
“But his eyes aren't moving.”
“That's what's so freaky about it.”
“Why does he keep rubbing the ball? What does this think it is?”
One determined youngster must have detached himself from his peers, because the others noticed immediately.
“Freddie, get back here!”
“What are you doing?”
The blind man heard the soft footsteps of the child as he approached. The footsteps stopped. The man knew the child was standing right in front of him.
The child reached out and touched the man's hand while he softly stroked the ball with a furrowed expression in his brow.
“It's yellow.” the child said.
The blind man smiled at the child. “Yes, it is.”