One spring day my family and I were sightseeing in Portland where we strolled through an old church. As was my habit, I began telling my visually impaired, color blind daughter, Katy, what I saw: the way the colors splashed through the stained glass, how each window seemed to glow with beauty, how the colors complimented the pictures. She listened, then pointed upward. “Well, Mom, here’s what I see. There’s a design like a clover that weaves through everything. See?…