“Wouldn’t you hate to wear glasses all the time?” asked a small boy of his playmate. “No-o-o,” the other boy answered slowly, “not if I had the kind grandma wears. She sees how to fix a lot of things, and she sees lots of nice things to do on rainy days, and she sees when folks are tired and sorry, and what will make them feel better, and she always sees what you meant to do even if you haven’t go things just right. I asked her one day how she could see that way all the time, and she said it was the way she learned to look at things as she grew older. So it must be her glasses.”
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