Donna Toto Covais

As I round out the last few days of my stint at the Carroll Center, I am filled with a sense of gratitude and sincere appreciation for all of you who have touched my life.

When I first arrived at the Carroll Center, I felt invisible and was amazed at how many of you could actually “see” me. More importantly, though, you all saw me as an individual who was important as a human being and not as a blind person. To prove your abilities you shared some very comforting, some very heartwarming stories about life for the blind. You kept at this with an almost relentless urgency that I am just learning to appreciate. Thank you all for your patience with me. I know I was not a willing and faithful recruit and I wonder where I would be if you all had not pursued me with such a vengeance.

I will be forever grateful for your teachings, your knowledge of the equipment that will make my life easier, but mostly your abilities to fit a square blind person into the round peg of life with such dignity that it felt like that’s how it should be.

Although in the blind world it feels like we’re on Robert Frost’s “A Road Less Traveled”, the Carroll Center has lined it with soft warm smiles, eyes to see beyond the obvious, and swords and shields to protect us through the bramble and thorns. Consequently, the journey was surprisingly enjoyable and one that I will never forget. Please accept my most profound thanks and know that a piece of my soul surrounds you all with love.

In closing, words that come to mind when remembering the Carroll Center for the Blind are: tolerance, wisdom, prudence, and much wisdom for those willing to “see” them. In the words of Oedipus Rex, “None is so blind as those who WILL not see.”

Fondly a former student,

Donna Toto Covais