11 Mar Light in the Eyes
By Yehuda Mansell
The human eye has always amazed me due to its staggering complexity as it translates light into images, allowing our brains to grasp the physical world around us. I have marvelled at the intricate detail of the iris, the sheer variety of hues of black, brown, hazel, blue, and green, even more unique than a fingerprint. I know there are scientific explanations for why eyes can appear dull and lifeless, and why some can seemingly flash with light, reflecting anger, joy, or wonder.
The human eye, as the adage goes, is the window to the soul, and I see something wondrous in how we can look deep into a person’s eyes and catch a glimpse of a part of them that is not apparent on the surface. Sometimes, we can see the pain that a smile and words try to mask. Or when we look into the eyes of a little one, rock in hand, as they insist in earnest that they “didn’t break the window…” while their fearful-of-consequence-eyes betray them. Sometimes, I find myself listening more to what a person’s eyes say than even their words.
Last month, a new family moved into our building, full of hope and stress, and all their earthly belongings wrapped up in Walmart bags. I noticed that the younger children made a significant effort to look into my face, gauging my response to them. I recognized that they were attempting to understand what kind of person I was and how I would receive them. So, I lavished a warm greeting with plenty of eye contact and big smiles despite the language barrier. When they saw my smile, they mirrored that joy back to me. Then we trudged all their gear up the stairs into their new apartment. The two littlest ones were right on my heels, and they entered their suite with giggles and squeals, and they ran around touching the walls, feeling the space, running in circles, but it was their eyes that struck me.
Their eyes were filled with such light and hope that I was taken aback. At one point, the littlest one, a bit overwhelmed with all that she was feeling, started to tear up a bit. Now, at this point, I don’t know this family’s story, but I do know that extremely harsh circumstances forced them to flee their home country, and I do know that their first four weeks in Canada have been difficult, and their housing situation has been somewhat precarious. So, I can understand why when they entered this space knowing this was their new, safe and comfortable home, these little girls were infused with hope and joy, and a host of other emotions they probably didn’t understand quite yet. What I didn’t expect was as their little eyes flashed at me, I felt a wave of emotion in my own heart, and in the corner of my own eye, a happy tear began to form.
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