Lester got off the train one stop before mine. Instead of sinking back into my worries, I noticed I felt better. I wondered, did I feel relieved for the silence or was it something else?

For over a year, this routine happened every work night. I could have changed trains, cars, or seats...but I didn't. I was too curious to learn how Lester viewed the world. I couldn't understand his enthusiasm. The stories would be different, but the detail and gratitude always left me feeling better. I envied but didn't understand his love and gratitude for his life. Each of these detailed stories talked about the good things--The triumphs as he saw them. The triumphs of others as he saw them.

I didn't understand until I saw his photographs. The photographs Lester shared with me were amazing.

My own father had a passion for photography. I had my own photography business of sorts. From my father's lessons and my own photography, I could see that Lester had the gift of the special "eye." He saw pictures and made fantastic prints from what he envisioned.

His hobby of collecting light meters was so appropriate and explained the very essence of Lester.

Think about it. He saw a photograph in everything: whether it was the fall foliage on his back porch (my favorite photograph of his) or the potential triumphs of someone else. He saw everything as a prize-winning photograph. He had the special "eye."

He understood the power of lighting. The light-meters were only tools to help him draw out what he envisioned. If he couldn't take the photograph, he would describe it...in detail using encouragement as the light source.

Lester was never bragging. He was never dictatorial. Lester was just trying to describe what he saw ... the good and potential in all ... the perfect picture. He was sharing his "eye."

When I visited the Pfeffer family after Lester's passing, I was struck by the photography around the house. It was only then that everything came very clear.

Lester did have a great eye. The only way he could share what he saw was in his photographs or by talking. He was always so thrilled at the little details in life. If the lighting (or situation) was poor, he would adjust the light (or his view) to see and achieve the best. He always saw, in his family and friends, the possibility of a great photograph. He knew he just had to sometimes adjust the light to get it displayed the way he envisioned it. He got his gratification when what he saw came into fruition…a photograph or a person achieving his/her potential. He knew everything was possible by adjusting the light.

My photography is better because of Lester's advice. More importantly, my view of a bad situation is different. Lester taught me how to use the "eye"; to envision the photograph; adjust the light, if needed. He showed me that I, like everyone he cared about, had an eye and to be grateful for it. He showed me that I already had a great life with my husband, Joe, and Scarlet. He saw my potential of achieving even more.

I know now that only I have the power to impact my life. I know how to control the light to achieve the best photography and life. I, too, am grateful for my eye and vision. I, too, see potential in so many others and am grateful for it.

Why did I remain sitting next to Lester? Because he saw the good in everything; he had a special eye that saw the color in a dull, stressful world. He knew that if the light could be shined a certain way…a light that was there in nature, or could be induced by him...would be a brilliant photograph and life. That's something to always be grateful for.

Let Lester live on in all of us. Be grateful that Lester saw and showed us that we all have the special eye. Let us adjust the light to allow us to focus on what we envision as the award-wining photograph.

What's in it for you?