All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a linited and spciified time to
live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as tweney-four hours. But always we
were interested in discovering just how the doomed man 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 thiking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events,
what experinences, what associations should we crowed into those last hours as mortal beings? What
happiness should we find in reviewing the past, 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 keeness 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 calues 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 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 task, hardly aware of our listless attitude towars 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 whose who
have never suffered impainment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest ues 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 a some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of
sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.