The eyes

As a boy, my father and I would have staring contests. The contests would go on until I lost my nerve and blinked. After my loss, my father would continue to stare at me for another two minutes just to prove a point. He would then blink slowly, savoring the moisture, clap me on the shoulder, and say, "One day son, one day." I asked him once about his gift. He stared off into the distance and replied, "The eyes of the determined man never dry." Then he gave me a little smile, tousled my hair, and walked away without another word.