All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to liv
e. 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 strict
ly 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 reg
rets?
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 gentlene
ss, vigor and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the c
onstant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would ad
opt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry”. But most people would be chastened by the cer
tainty 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 shado
w 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 sel
dom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aw
are 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 d
oes this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who hav
e never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculti
es. 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 n
ot 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 f
ew 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.