A Visual Memory

One of my strongest visual memories of the three years we lived in the Wilson Lane house is something I could not have seen. The view out our kitchen window was of the hill beyond the valley created by Stony Brook. One Christmas morning my brother looked out that window and saw Santa Claus in his sleigh, skimming the top of the oaks and pines. He pointed this out to me, and then I could see it too. I can see it in my mind’s eye right now. A year later I was failing arithmetic, and Miss Sullivan pointed out to my parents that because I couldn’t see the blackboard, I had copied down the times tables incorrectly. What was I seeing in those years? When the eye doctor put on my glasses, he had me look out the fourth story window, and I was amazed to see the individual leaves of the trees.