Many of us have wished that we had said thank you at just the right moment but then the opportunity passed us by. This happened to me very recently. I had attended the meeting of the College of Optometrists in Vision Development (COVD) which is made up of a small subset of optometrists who are experts in optometric vision therapy. It was an optometrist from this group who had given me an enormous gift: she had taught me that I could rehabilitate my own vision and, with her guidance, I leaned to straighten my crossed eyes and to see in 3D. I wrote all about these experiences in my book Fixing My Gaze.

Midway through the meeting, there was a banquet at which several optometrists were given awards for their work. To my surprise, I was given an award as well. Since I'm not an optometrist, a new award had been created in my honor. I went up onto the stage to receive the plaque and listen to the speech being made about my book and my efforts to publicize the benefits of optometric vision therapy. As the speaker talked, I could sense the emotion behind her words. This group of optometrists has been unjustly despised, dismissed, and insulted for many years, and they really appreciated my book and my efforts. When the plaque had been given and a photo taken, I thought I'd say thank you. However, I felt nervous on stage (there were 600 people in the room) so I said nothing and returned to my seat.