Years ago, I lived in a building in a large city. The building next door was only a few feet away from mine. There was a woman who lived there, whom I had never met, yet I could see her seat by her window each afternoon, sewing or reading.

After several months had gone by, I began to notice that her window was dirty. Everything was unclear through the dirty window. I would say to myself, “I wonder why that woman doesn’t wash her window. It really looks terrible.”

One bright morning I decided to clean my flat, including washing the window on the inside. Late in the afternoon when I finished the cleaning, I sat down by the window with a cup of coffee for a rest. What a surprise! Across the way, the woman sitting by her window was clearly visible. Her window was clean!

Then it dawned on me. I had been criticizing her dirty window, but all the time I was watching her through my own dirty window.

That was quite an important lesson for me. How often had I looked at and criticized others through the dirty window of my heart, through my own shortcomings?

Since then, whenever I wanted to judge someone, I asked myself first, “Am I looking at him through my own dirty window?” Then I try to clean the window of my own world so that I may see the world more clearly.

It was a beautiful midwinter day in Pretoria. The sun shone warmly, and the air was fresh, calling us outdoors. A friend and I went for a walk up a small hill. Everywhere around us the grass was a dull brown color, as if painted with a dirty brush. I told my thought to my friend who, in reply, drew from his coat a pocket microscope. Bending down, he picked some of the ugly-colored growth and handed it to me with the microscope. I could hardly believe my eyes, for suddenly I was looking at some shining tiny flowers of lovely color. It seemed strange that so much beauty should be so hidden, a secret life carried on by nature beneath a dull exterior (外表).

Some days later, while I was at the hospital where I worked, a woman entered with three children. Her hair hung in untidy wisps round a face whose uncared-for skin looked dried and dull. She sat down and waited her turn with the patience of the poor. The children gradually gathered courage and made braver explorations as time went by. Suddenly the little girl overbalanced and fell. Both her brothers, a little bigger than her, rushed anxiously to her aid. When the child fell, the mother had at first started up in alarm, but when she saw that the child was not really hurt and that her brothers were caring for her with such love, her eyes grew soft and a look of such indescribable love passed over her face — once again I looked at great beauty.

Beauty lies on every side; we must develop our own microscopes of perception ( 感知能力) in order to look through the physical exterior which, like the grass-covered hillside, conceals a beauty still hidden from our eyes.