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.