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From Out Of The Dark
It all began when I entered this world,
I was born unable to see.
This meant nothing to a new born child
who accepted life so readily.
My crawling days first introduced to me
the knocks and bumps of reality
Mum and dad were always around
to kiss me better when I fell.
They taught me how to walk the house
without giving injury to myself.
Upstairs and down I walked day or night,
just as though I had normal sight.
Throughout the early years of my life
I was educated by my mother,
but unexpectedly she became pregnant,
with Simon, my baby brother.
Simon’s arrival brought about a change of mind,
which saw me going to a school for the blind.
This opened up an exciting new world;
there was so much more to know.
Would they be able to teach me to read,
and show me where my fingers go?
Touch, gave visualisations to objects and faces,
that gave me pictures to once blank spaces.
By the age of ten I was developing other senses,
and was confident within my space.
After lunch one day, I was taken from my class,
a message had arrived in haste.
In the office, a policeman and my uncle were waiting
to break the news that was so devastating.
A vehicle had crashed into my parent’s car,
which rolled into fast flowing river.
By the time they were recovered from the water
there were no signs of life whatever.
I was taken to the home of my uncle and aunty,
who promised to love and take good care of me.
They worked for the diplomatic service
and were soon to be posted to India.
I didn’t know what was happening to me,
and I don’t think they knew either.
I was still in shock over my parents and brother,
and I didn’t really want to be with any other.
One Sunday morning after the service at church
I was told to dismiss India from my mind.
I would be going to a special needs school,
for the partially sighted and blind.
It seemed their promise didn’t cover future years
regardless of my personal fears.
The first visit to my proposed new school
struck me with silence and despair.
A feeling of impending doom sickened me,
and I just didn’t want to be there.
The afternoon brought a shopping trip to town,
clothes and kit weighed me down.
The day came too soon for last goodbyes,
my guardians were off to Bombay.
They deposited me at the boarding school;
shook my hand and left without delay.
The Head Mistress firmly but gently held my hand,
she immediately seemed to understand.
I suppose all new children felt the same
when they were left to cope
with a daunting, intimidating situation,
and a feeling of very little hope.
With knocking knees and thumping heart
I faced an uphill battle from the start!
My early boarding days were far from easy,
worsened by the harassment of the blind.
Some of the partially sighted took advantage;
they were just born to be unkind.
But that changed with a new teacher’s arrival
who taught the ‘partials’ to be respectful.
The discovery of inner peace in our mind and body,
and how to hear movement from sound.
How to separate the distractions that noise brings,
and how to remain focused and profound.
This knowledge has brought dignity and self belief
to a blind man who has now decided to teach.
poem
by
Orlando Belo
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