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.