Cody started life weighing 24 ounces.
Due to extreme prematurity, our son had eye surgery to prevent blindness. As a result of the surgery, he lost peripheral vision in his right eye. And his near sightedness would mean glasses and close monitoring by an ophthalmologist for the rest of his life.
Such a small price to pay, in our opinion, compared to the alternative.
Cody wore glasses with great pride, making it abundantly clear to his little brothers that Mommy and Daddy also wore glasses, and wasn't it a shame that they didn't have any themselves. This usually prompted a round of begging from his siblings that it was only fair they get glasses, too.
Then kindergarten happened.
One day, a couple of kids at recess derailed Cody's bright outlook on having glasses in his possession. One boy said, your glasses look stupid, Cody. Another kid yanked them off his face and bent them.
Cody was a timid, small child. Seeing tears well up in his eyes, as he recounted the event, wrung our hearts dry.
Just recently though, something changed his outlook.
It was the morning of Valentine's Day. I shut off the alarm and groped around in the dark until I found my glasses. I donned them and without turning on the light, blindly made my way to the bathroom. I flipped the bathroom switch, and there I discovered why it was extra dark in my bedroom.
My husband, Stephen, had placed two red heart stickers on my glasses. And plastered all over the mismatched antique mirrors above our bathroom basins were the same stickers.
"VALENTINE," my husband had scrawled on one mirror, "I LOVE YOU THIS MUCH!"
In one mirror was drawn a stick arm with a hand pointing west. And in the other mirror was the same thing pointing east. I was chuckling under my breath, so as not to wake the rest of the household, while staring at my reflection.
I penned my response in the mirror, "Thanks to you, sweetie, I've got hearts in my eyes!"
While dressing Cody for school, he whispered, "Mom?"
"Yes, big boy?" I whispered back.
"You got hearts on your glasses."
"Yep, I sure do."
科迪出生时仅仅24盎司。
因为是极度早产，我们的儿子做了眼部手术以防止失明。手术结果是，他失去了右眼的周边视觉。右眼近视就意味着他终身都需要戴眼镜，终身都需要有眼科专家的密切监察。
相对于失明，我们认为这点代价实在是微不足道。
科迪极为骄傲地戴上了眼镜，那种骄傲劲让他的弟弟们一眼就能看出：爸爸、妈妈都戴眼镜，而他们却不戴，简直有点不像话。于是弟弟们时常轮番恳求也要戴眼镜，否则不公平嘛。
转眼该上幼儿园了。
有一天课间休息时，两个小男孩彻底摧毁了科迪对戴眼镜所抱有的自豪感。一个男孩说，科迪，你的眼镜看上去好蠢。而另一个竟猛地把科迪的眼镜摘下，把它弄弯。
科迪个头小，生性腼腆。他回家跟我们说起
这件事时，眼泪直在眼睛里打转转，我们的心里好难受。
但就在最近，有件事改变了他对眼镜的看法。
那是情人节的早晨。闹钟一响，我赶紧按住，然后在黑暗中摸索着找到我的眼镜。我戴上眼镜，没有开灯，摸黑走进卫生间。轻轻按下卫生间的电灯开关，我才明白过来为什么卧室是那样出奇地黑暗。
我先生斯蒂芬，在我的眼镜片上分别贴了两个红色心形贴画。而在我们卫生间盥洗池上方那些大小不一的古董镜子上也都贴满了红心。
“我的爱，我这么地爱你!”我先生在一面镜子上潦草地写道。
在一面镜子上画有一只伸直的胳膊，手指向西边。而另一面镜子上也画有一只伸直的胳膊，手指向东边。瞅着镜中的自己，我使劲忍住不笑出声来，怕弄醒丈夫和孩子。
我也在镜子上写下了我的回复：“谢谢你，亲爱的。我的眼里满是心!”
在给科迪穿衣服准备去学校时，他低声说：“妈妈?”
“嗯，我的大男孩?”我低声应和。
“你眼镜上有红心。”
“没错，有啊。”
“你真有意思，妈妈，”他说了句，眼里放着光芒。我们俩钻进小货车的驾驶室里，又有好多心将我们包围。方向盘上贴有红心，后视镜上有一个，钥匙上有一个，换档杆上有一个，我的皮夹上还有一个。我那不知忧愁为何物的老公真是大献殷勤。
我把那两颗心从我的眼镜上揭下，递给科迪。他小心翼翼地把它们贴到自己的眼镜片上，去学校的一路上他都是笑眯眯的。
我在校门口停下来。
“拿上你的书包，宝贝，”我说。
“妈妈，我能戴着红心上学吗?”
我心里斗争了一会儿。如此当众“表演”可能一鸣惊人，也可能一败涂地。但是科迪眼里流露出的恳求让我不再犹豫。我怎能剥夺有可能让他开心的一个大好机会呢?
“我看没有什么不可以的，小伙子。”
我又把两个红心贴在我自己的镜片上，然后我们一起走进学校，手拉着手，穿过走廊中的人群，朝他的教室走去。
“哈!快看科迪-奥利弗。他眼镜上有红心!”一个人看见了，嚷了起来。
“啊，看科迪!多酷呀!”另一个发现者也嚷着，指着我们咯咯地笑。
科迪腼腆地微笑着，紧紧地抓住我的手。
当我们来到教室门口时，同学们围住科迪，而我看到他在努力克制他的笑容，那是我在他脸上看见过的最开心的笑容。
“真有意思!眼镜上有心!”
“科迪，让我戴一下好吗?”
一个小姑娘扯了扯我的衣袖。“您是奥利弗太太?”
“是啊。你有什么事?”
“我要是戴眼镜就好了。”
就在那时，我一点也不再怀疑，科迪又重新拾回了他的自信。
很简单，就是让眼里有心。
