All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified
time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year, sometimes as short as 24 hours. But
always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed hero chose to spend
his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not
condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited. Such stories set
us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events,
what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those last hours as mortal
beings, what regrets? Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live
each day as if we should die tomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply
the values of life. We should live each day with gentleness, vigor and a keenness of
appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant
panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course,
who would adopt the Epicurean motto of "Eat, drink, and be merry". But most people
would be chastened by the certainty of impending death. In stories the doomed hero
is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his
sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life
and it's permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or
have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.
Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but
usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death
is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista.
So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life. The
same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only
the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in
sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing
in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom
make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights
and sounds hazily, without concentration and with little appreciation. It is the same
old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious
of health until we are ill. I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human
being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult
life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach
him the joys of sound.