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 its 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.