The True Gift Of Being Blind
There were two men, Mr. Chism (Black) and Mr. Brown (White) both in their
Late 80’s and both were blind. Neither of them was married, and both were
Living with their children.
Their day was mostly centered around going to the local Park each morning as their
children would take and leave them there for two or three hours in a day.
It so happens that one day Mr. Brown could feel the presence of the same person
Sitting close to him every day, and so he decided to spark up a conversation with
Mr. Chism. “I just love coming here and smelling the sweet perfume go buy that
The young women wear, it takes me back to my younger days” said Mr. Brown with
His rough deep southern accent. (You’d think he was Black). “Yes I certainly do agree
with you my friend” said Mr. Chism, born and raised in the upper class part of Manhattan
New York. (You’d think he was white.) And so they began to make small talk with each other
Every day, never to talk about politics, crime or controversial matters, just good old
Small talk, getting more acquainted with each other and they good became friends.
Mostly, their conversations would be about money, girls and their younger years.
Each day as they would go home, life would go back to what they mostly knew.
Mr. Chism would turn on the TV set and listen to the news complaining. “These White
People are always up to no good, they’re going to kill us all! He would shout.
Mr. Brown would sit close to the window in the living room so he could hear the chitter chatter
Coming from outside complaining, “These Black kids are all bad, we should lock’ em all up!
I hate this neighborhood!” He would shout. This anger would bother both of their siblings
Although they lived in separate homes, and the siblings not knowing each other.
Time went on and the two of them would look forward to meeting at the local park on
A daily basis. Then cam the day when Mr. Brown could not feel the presence of Mr. Chism being
There. Days went by, and then came the day when Mr. Chism would not come to the local park.
It so happens that the both of them had fallen seriously ill. But it was by chance that they were
Admitted in the same hospital on the same floor and both were dying. But it so happens that
Being blind, you can tell when someone that you know is close to you. Mr. Chism could faintly
Hear someone asking for Mr. Charles Brown, and likewise the same for Mr. Brown, as
He heard someone asking for Mr. Henry Chism. But they both were too sick to get up to
Go and investigate.
Then came the day, the chaplain was called in to pray for them as they were dying, and
He asked Mr. Brown “Do you have any last request sir?” “Yes” replied Mr. Brown.
I believe I have a good friend here in this hospital, on this floor, as he could barely speak.
His name is Mr. Chism, and I would like to be placed in the same room as he is. His wish was
Granted. That day, barely able to talk they made as much small talk as they possibly could, the family left them alone for a while and were Very much in shock. My dad talking to a black man so openly and
Freely, said Mr. Brown’s daughter, and so was the case for Mr. Chism’s son.
An hour went by and there was no sound, the children decided to go into the room
To investigate. The two of them were gone to sleep, forever.
A question was asked of each of their children, “where do you wish to bury him?”
Mr. Brown’s daughter replied, “A place where I have never seen him so happy,
Next to his Friend”.
Late 80’s and both were blind. Neither of them was married, and both were
Living with their children.
Their day was mostly centered around going to the local Park each morning as their
children would take and leave them there for two or three hours in a day.
It so happens that one day Mr. Brown could feel the presence of the same person
Sitting close to him every day, and so he decided to spark up a conversation with
Mr. Chism. “I just love coming here and smelling the sweet perfume go buy that
The young women wear, it takes me back to my younger days” said Mr. Brown with
His rough deep southern accent. (You’d think he was Black). “Yes I certainly do agree
with you my friend” said Mr. Chism, born and raised in the upper class part of Manhattan
New York. (You’d think he was white.) And so they began to make small talk with each other
Every day, never to talk about politics, crime or controversial matters, just good old
Small talk, getting more acquainted with each other and they good became friends.
Mostly, their conversations would be about money, girls and their younger years.
Each day as they would go home, life would go back to what they mostly knew.
Mr. Chism would turn on the TV set and listen to the news complaining. “These White
People are always up to no good, they’re going to kill us all! He would shout.
Mr. Brown would sit close to the window in the living room so he could hear the chitter chatter
Coming from outside complaining, “These Black kids are all bad, we should lock’ em all up!
I hate this neighborhood!” He would shout. This anger would bother both of their siblings
Although they lived in separate homes, and the siblings not knowing each other.
Time went on and the two of them would look forward to meeting at the local park on
A daily basis. Then cam the day when Mr. Brown could not feel the presence of Mr. Chism being
There. Days went by, and then came the day when Mr. Chism would not come to the local park.
It so happens that the both of them had fallen seriously ill. But it was by chance that they were
Admitted in the same hospital on the same floor and both were dying. But it so happens that
Being blind, you can tell when someone that you know is close to you. Mr. Chism could faintly
Hear someone asking for Mr. Charles Brown, and likewise the same for Mr. Brown, as
He heard someone asking for Mr. Henry Chism. But they both were too sick to get up to
Go and investigate.
Then came the day, the chaplain was called in to pray for them as they were dying, and
He asked Mr. Brown “Do you have any last request sir?” “Yes” replied Mr. Brown.
I believe I have a good friend here in this hospital, on this floor, as he could barely speak.
His name is Mr. Chism, and I would like to be placed in the same room as he is. His wish was
Granted. That day, barely able to talk they made as much small talk as they possibly could, the family left them alone for a while and were Very much in shock. My dad talking to a black man so openly and
Freely, said Mr. Brown’s daughter, and so was the case for Mr. Chism’s son.
An hour went by and there was no sound, the children decided to go into the room
To investigate. The two of them were gone to sleep, forever.
A question was asked of each of their children, “where do you wish to bury him?”
Mr. Brown’s daughter replied, “A place where I have never seen him so happy,
Next to his Friend”.
Close You Eyes, Open Your Mind, and together we can be the best of FriendsBruce Jefferson 08/12/2009
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