I am ashamed to realise that I never really learned to live until Ifeared I was going to die.”
My dear Lucile Blake， you may not realise it， but you learnedthe same lesson that Dr. Samuel Johnson learned two hundredyears ago. “The habit of looking on the best side of every event，”
said Dr. Johnson， “is worth more than a thousand pounds a year.”
Those words were uttered， mind you， not by a professionaloptimist， but by a man who had known anxiety， rags， andhunger for twenty years—and finally became one of the mosteminent writers of his generation and the most celebratedconversationalist of all time.
Logan Pearsall Smith packed a lot of wisdom into a few wordswhen he said： “There are two things to aim at in life： first， to getwhat you want； and， after that， to enjoy it. Only the wisest ofmankind achieve the second.”
Would you like to know how to make even dishwashing at thekitchen sink a thrilling experience？ If so， read an inspiring bookof incredible courage by Borghild Dahl. It is called I Wanted toSee.
This book was written by a woman who was practically blindfor half a century. “I had only one eye，” she writes， “and it was socovered with dense scars that I had to do all my seeing throughone small opening in the left of the eye. I could see a book only byholding it up close to my face and by straining my one eye as hardas I could to the left.”
But she refused to be pitied， refused to be considered“different”. As a child， she wanted to play hopscotch with otherchildren， but she couldn’t see the markings. So after the other children had gone home， she got down on the ground and crawledalong with her eyes near to the marks. She memorised every bitof the ground where she and her friends played and soon becamean expert at running games. She did her reading at home， holdinga book of large print so close to her eyes that her eyelashesbrushed the pages. She earned two college degrees： an A B. fromthe University of Minnesota and a Master of Arts from ColumbiaUniversity.
She started teaching in the tiny village of Twin Valley， Minnesota，and rose until she became professor of journalism and literature atAugustana College in Sioux Falls， South Dakota. She taught therefor thirteen years， lecturing before women’s clubs and giving radiotalks about books and authors. “In the back of my mind，” shewrites， “there had always lurked a fear of total blindness. In orderto overcome this， I had adopted a cheerful， almost hilarious，attitude towards life.”
Then in 1943， when she was fifty-two years old， a miraclehappened： an operation at the famous Mayo Clinic. She could nowsee forty times as well as she had ever been able to see before.
A new and exciting world of loveliness opened before her. Shenow found it thrilling even to wash dishes in the kitchen sink.
“I begin to play with the white fluffy suds in the dish-pan，” shewrites. “I dip my hands into them and I pick up a ball of tiny soapbubbles. I hold them up against the light， and in each of them Ican see the brilliant colours of a miniature rainbow.”
As she looked through the window above the kitchen sink， shesaw “the flapping grey-black wings of the sparrows flying throughthe thick， falling snow.”
She found such ecstasy looking at the soap bubbles andsparrows that she closed her book with these words： “‘dear Lord，’
I whisper， ‘Our Father in Heaven， I thank Thee. I thank Thee.’”
Imagine thanking God because you can wash dishes and seerainbows in bubbles and sparrows flying through the snow！
You and I ought to be ashamed of ourselves. All the days ofour years we have been living in a fairyland of beauty， but wehave been too blind to see， too satiated to enjoy.
If we want to stop worrying and start living. Rule 4 is：
Count your blessings—not your troubles！