The doctor turned quickly and looked out
the tall hospital window. The baby had been born without ears. Time proved that
the baby’s hearing was perfect. It was only his appearance that was marred.
When he rushed home from school one day
and flung himself into his mother’s arms, she sighed, knowing that his life was
to be a succession of heartbreaks.
He blurted out the tragedy. “A boy, a big
boy… called me a freak.”
He grew up, handsome for his misfortune. A
favorite with his fellow students, he might have been class president, but for
that. He developed a gift, a talent for literature and music.
“But, you might mingle with other young
people,” his mother reproved him, but felt a kindness in her heart.
The boy’s father had a session with the
family physician. Could nothing be done?
“I believe I could graft on a pair of
outer ears, if they could be procured,” the doctor decided.
Whereupon, the search began for a person
who would make such a sacrifice for a young man. Two years went by.
Then his father said, “You are going to
the hospital, son. Mother and I have someone who will donate the ears you need.
But, it’s a secret who it is.”
The operation was a brilliant success, and
a new person emerged. His talents blossomed into genius, and school and college
became a series of triumphs. Later, he married and entered the diplomatic
service.
“But, I must know!” He urged his father,
“Who gave so much for me? I could never do enough for him.”
“I do not believe you could,” said the
father, “but, the agreement was that you are not to know… not yet.”
The years kept their profound secret, but
the day did come. It was one of the darkest days that ever pass through a son.
He stood with his father over his mother’s casket. Slowly, tenderly, the father
stretched forth a hand and raised the thick, reddish-brown hair to reveal that
the mother had no outer ears.
“Mother said she was glad she never let
her hair be cut,” he whispered gently, “and nobody ever thought mother less
beautiful, did they?”
Real beauty lies not in the physical
appearance, but in the heart. Real treasure lies not in what can be seen, but
in what cannot be seen. Real love lies not in what is done and known, but in
what is done and not known.
-Author Unknown
