My third day of sight is drawing to an end. Perhaps there are many serious pursuits to which I should devote the few remaining hours， but I am afraid that on the evening of that last day I should again run away to the theater， to a hilariously funny play， so that I might appreciate the overtones of comedy in the human spirit.
At midnight my temporary respite from blindness would cease， and permanent night would close in on me again. Naturally in those three short days I should not have seen all I wanted to see. Only when darkness had again descended upon me should I realize how much I had left unseen. But my mind would be so crowded with glorious memories that I should have little time for regrets. Thereafter the touch of every object would bring a glowing memory of how that object looked.
Perhaps this short outline of how I should spend three days of sight does not agree with the program you would set for yourself if you knew that you were about to be stricken blind. I am， however， sure that if you actually faced that fate your eyes would open to things you had never seen before， storing up memories for the long night ahead. You would use your eyes as never before. Everything you saw would become dear to you. Your eyes would touch and embrace every object that came within your range of vision. Then， at last， you would really see， and a new world of beauty would open itself before you.
I who am blind can give one hint to those who see—one admonition to those who would make full use of the gift of sight： Use your eyes as if tomorrow you would be stricken blind. And the same method can be applied to the other senses. Hear the music of voices， the song of a bird， the mighty strains of an orchestra， as if you would be stricken deaf tomorrow. Touch each object you want to touch as if tomorrow your tactile sense would fail. Smell the perfume of flowers， taste with relish each morsel， as if tomorrow you could never smell and taste again. Make the most of every sense： glory in all the facets of pleasure and beauty which the world reveals to you through the several means of contact which Nature provides. But of all the senses， I am sure that sight must be the most delightful.