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.