Rava once told a story in the name of Rabbi Yochanan that was preserved in tractate Sanhedrin (folio 104, column 2) — and it is really a story about how a Jew is supposed to see.

Two Jewish slaves were walking down a road, their master trailing behind them. He overheard one say to the other: "There is a camel ahead of us, though I have not seen it. It is blind in one eye. It is laden with two skin-bottles, one of wine and one of oil. Two drivers attend it, one Israelite and one gentile."

The master was furious. "How dare you invent such a tale!"

The slave answered quietly. "The grass is cropped on only one side of the track — so the camel is blind on the other. Wine that dripped has soaked into the earth on the right; oil that trickled rests on the left. One driver stepped aside from the road to relieve himself, as a Jew is required to do; the other did not even leave the path."

The master ran ahead to check. Every detail was true. He came back, praised the two slaves for their sharpness, and gave them their freedom on the spot.

Rabbi Yochanan's lesson lands quietly under the humor: attention to small things is a kind of Torah. A person who reads the road this carefully has already begun to read the world.