Counting My Blessings

I was assigned to tutor a dyslexic Primary 6 student last Friday.

He could not read nor spell. When I tried to teach him the alphabet, he had problems associating the visual representations of some letters to their sounds, despite my repeated attempts. He was also severely myopic, with vision in each eye reduced to several thousand degrees.

I was momentarily shell-shocked and helpless, because at that very instant, I knew too little about the condition to be able to properly assist him. I wondered if I should speak to his parents, even though it probably wasn't in my authority to do so. Yet, he was in no condition to attend a regular school. I felt sad as well, because it was very likely that he would grow up illiterate, should there be no proper intervention soon.

At the same time, I felt blessed to not have been left out on all the gifts of life - five senses, intellectual and physical ability, and health (somewhat). I have a roof over my head and I don't go to bed hungry. So no matter how bad my work, relationships and emotional well-being may be, I am still considered lucky.

I will try to count my blessings everyday from now on.