View-Master for my mother I guess I got it from her, this habit of clenching my face into a fist, this brutal looking into, her way of seeing things, squinting -- one eye clearly unable to reach as far as the other. A childhood plagued by headaches from straining, I watched far too much TV -- up close, so nothing would escape. Then at ten I got an inexpensive gift, one that held images up closer to my face like a kiss. Imitating the kids who were supposed to be my friends, I blinked and blinked, testing my sight with it -- perfect vision in my right eye, but the left one was weaker. It backed away, watered, then blurred. Farsighted! her doctor proclaimed, adding windows to our already veiled corner of the world. We left linked, two good eyes between us, joined by our shared flaw. She passing her gift, me making myth with it. -- Thomas Sayers Ellis