That day, I felt the world seemed wrong and I came to the park. The park bench(板凳) was free as I sat down. Just then a young boy out of breath ran towards me. He stood right before me with his head down and said with great excitement, "Look at what I found!"
In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful(可怜的) sight(景象), with its petals(花瓣) all worn(磨损)— not enough rain, or too little light. Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play, I nodded.
But he sat next to me and smelt the flower. He said with surprise, "It surely smells pretty and it's beautiful, too. That's why I picked it. Here, it's for you. "The flower before me was dying or dead. But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave. So I reached for the flower, and replied, "Just what I need."
But instead of placing the flower in my hand, he held it in the air. It was then that I noticed for the first time that the boy could not see. He was blind.
I was very surprised. I thanked him for picking the best one. "You are welcome, " he smiled, and then ran off to play.
Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see the problem was not with the world. The problem was me. And for all of those times I myself had been blind.
And then I held that flower up to my nose and breathed in the smell of a beautiful rose.