A remarkable incident occurred to me at Niagara Falls.
It was the first time I had ever been to the falls up-close in a boat.
Towards the front of the boat I noticed an elderly man and a young woman silhouetted against the tumbling sheets of white.
All around me people took "selfies" and photos.
Finally, the boat ride ended.
The elderly gentleman turned around and smiled in my direction. He grasped an odd-looking stick in his hand.
It was a white walking cane.
He was completely blind!
I felt myself blinking back tears. The dissonance was overwhelming.
A person standing fifty feet in front of one the most remarkable sights a human being can see - and seeing absolutely nothing.
Then I noticed the gentleman's face.
It shone with an expression I can only describe as elation. No one else exuded such happiness.
This troubled me.
What had affected the blind man so intensely?
Then I understood.
The falls were there.
They were only fifty feet in front of me.
But I wasn't there.
Not on the level of that man.
He was there fully. Totally present.
No selfies, no photos, no babies, no boat.
Just the power of the thundering water before him.
Of all the passengers on the boat only the blind man had truly witnessed the falls.
True story.
