Darkness, that’s all I see. The gift of colors and shapes have found their way from my world forever. I have not always been this way you see. I remember seeing my mother’s face as her mouth forms into a smile, my hands holding a newly caught frog, begging to keep it; seeing smooth stones as they skip along the breakable surface of liquid, as me and my best friend engage in a friendly contest,and . . . the sunset, on a beautiful autumn’s eve. That though changed in a matter of minutes. But I am not sorry, nor do I live in spite, for the tale I have to tell is one I’ll never forget.

It was Thanksgiving. The day was spent preparing food, the delicious aroma engulfing the room; watching football, cheering for the Chiefs, of course; and laughing and visiting with family I don’t even remember seeing before. But none of that can compare to my favorite activity. When all the delicacies had been prepared, and the table set, we would all sit. True, the site of marshmallowery sweet potatoes, jellylike cranberry sauce, scrumptious deviled eggs, sweet pumpkin pies, buttery rolls, steaming mash potatoes, and smoldering turkey all looked appetizing, but that’s not my favorite part.

With all around the tempting food, we would take turns telling what we where thankful for, that is what I loved. After all had spoken we would give thanks to the Lord, then, we could finally taste the mouth watering food.

When I had eaten my fill I said goodbye, for me and my friend, Zack, had to leave. It was our Thanksgiving tradition to go to both of our families on this day. So we left to his and ate another delicious feast.

It was dark before we were in his car again, a white Viper. He had bought it a couple of days ago, with the money had been saving for years, so you could probably understand how much he wanted to try it out. So we sat there, the car cruising along the highway. Of course I got to lazily close my eyes, since I was not the one driving. We discussed many issues, mostly girls, before I drifted asleep.

An unusual bump woke me from my slumber. I opened my eyes and stretched. The windshield revealed, well, was clouded by a heavy fog. Little light could pierce the gray blockade. But unknown to me was that my fate was hidden in its shadow. For it was not long before we were blinded by a Semi. It was to close to stop. Fear had gripped Zack as he drove us off the road. We tumbled into the lone forest, as the car became nothing more then a twisted form of metal. It rattled and jerked as it tumbled on the new terrain. If it wasn’t for my seat belt, I would have been tossed like a rag doll. With a last thump, I think we crashed into a tree, I lost conscience.

I awoke into a new world, for I saw no light, no shapes, no colors, only darkness. At first I thought I had not yet opened my eyes, for I heard a familiar voice say, “Tyler?” I tried to open them, but they wouldn’t it seemed. I tried again and again but I could not see the face of my friend.

“Tyler, it’s Zack.”

“I know that,” I said with frustration.

“Um,” he said, it sounded like he was about to cry, “can you see me?”

“How can I see you if I don’t have my eyes open?” I replied.

“Tyler, they are open. You’re . . . you’re blind.”

Shock and fear gripped my body as I denied my position. I tried to convince myself I was dreaming, but . . . the truth was; I was blind.

“How?” I asked.

“ . . . The tree had broke the windshield, and . . . they found several pieces in your eyes.”

But? I didn’t feel pain in my eyes?

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

Time froze as those words left his lips. He blamed himself. He thought that my lose was all his fault. That is when I released my feelings of sorrow. Then is where I didn’t care. For if I had held on to those feelings, it would only make him feel worse.

“Don’t be,” I said.

“But . . .”

“No, it’s not your fault. Nobody could have known that it was coming. Hec, I bet Houdini couldn’t have gotten out of that one. Besides, I could be the next Dare Devil,” I said with a smile.

I couldn’t tell if my words had sunk in, but I still pray they did. I only wondered; would things be the same?

It wasn’t long before we left the hospital, but my work had just begun. I began to attend a special school with others like me. It was fun at first, for I was given my own dog. I believe people say he’s a golden retriever; he’s big enough to be one. And his fur is of the softest kind; I named him Pat. But, as the days passed, I began to decode the symbols of brail. I became frustrated, for how was I supposed to read something by touch? At one time I threw my book across the room, but it was returned to me.

“Don’t give up,” said a familiar voice.

It was his. He had not abandoned me in my hardship. I hope it was not guilt that led him, but I believe that it was our friendship.

He was there whenever I needed him. Whenever a challenge came I could hear his voice say, “Don’t give up.”

And so, when that year had passed, and I again sat at that table with my family, I waited and listened to what they all were thankful for. But, when it came to me, I looked to where my friend sat and said, “I’m thankful, for him.”