Evergreens had dropped so many needles on my lawn that I had my work cut out for me in cutting the grass. I turned off my hearing aid to block the noise of the riding mower, climbed on and started the engine.
On my first pass over the yard a low-hanging branch knocked my sunglasses right off—and my hearing aid along with them!
I stopped the mower and looked down at the ground. The sunglasses were easy to spot. But the hearing aid? A beige-colored device about the size of my fingertip? Forget it. I would never find that among all these needles.
A replacement would cost me three thousand dollars. Why had I let the insurance run out on the darn thing? I could have kicked myself.
I jumped off the mower and scanned the area around my glasses. I had to at least make a stab at looking, so I got down on my hands and knees to comb through the grass and needles.
Twenty minutes later, I stood up, dejected.
“Look alongside the mower deck.”
A voice, loud and clear, had directed my gaze—and there it was, my hearing aid. The impossibly small, bland-colored object was in plain sight, right alongside the mower deck, just as the voice had advised me.
I might need a little assistance with my hearing, but that afternoon my vision was a divine 20/20.
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