Caussey's Corner

Caussey’s Corner: Glass On the Floor, a Texas Tale of a Glass Eye

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School is about halfway over for students around Christmas. By May, most boys and girls will have improved enough in their reading and math skills for promotion to the next grade.

However, below the surface of all this academic pursuit lies a struggle for peer acceptance and approval that all students seek. Most students are more concerned about what their classmates think and feel than the opinions of parents or teachers.

When I was in the fourth grade, few teachers held me in much esteem, and my fellow students hardly knew or cared much for me. Other than being poor, dirty, and a little hungry, there wasn’t much more to know.

But all that changed when Harry moved into the community. Harry was in the fourth grade and even poorer and dirtier than me. We became good friends because rag-a-muffins often times stick together.

But the class readily accepted Harry, because he had a genuine glass eye. A glass eye that he could remove quickly, leaving an empty orifice in which it was housed. That empty eye-socket was nearly as attractive as the glass eye. The light blue glass eye was slightly larger than Harry’s own dark brown one.

Caussey's Corner: Glass On the Floor, a Texas Tale of a Glass Eye
Photo: envato elements

Harry could always become the center of attention. He would simply remove the glass eye and let the students marvel at his eye-removing techniques. Everyone liked Harry, even those neat, clean, prissy little girls that always smelled of lilac.

As Harry’s social light burned brightly, I bathed in that light because I was his best friend. When I was around Harry, I wasn’t quite as poor, dirty or hungry. I washed myself in the peripheral light that celebrated Harry’s presence.

Harry on occasion would let me hold the sacred eye. When the eye was in my hand, I became the heir to the inheritance of popularity. Each time I got my hands on the illustrious orb, I displayed it for the entire class to see. Sometimes I would toss it in the air, as gasps filled the space and smothered shrieks helped to escort it down. I always caught it, whether in midair or just before it hit the floor. Harry didn’t seem to mind his eye and me sharing in the attention. After all, he still had the empty hole, which always received attentive glances.

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