Three Days to See (Excerpts)
All of us haveread thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified timeto 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 tospend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who havea choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictlydelimited.
Such stories setus thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. Whatevents, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those lasthours as mortal beings, what regrets?
Sometimes I havethought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should dietomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. Weshould live each day with gentleness, vigor and a keenness of appreciationwhich are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama ofmore days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who wouldadopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry”. But most people wouldbe chastened by the certainty of impending death.
In stories thedoomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, butalmost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative ofthe meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been notedthat those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellowsweetness to everything they do.
Most of us,however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usuallywe picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, deathis all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endlessvista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitudetoward life.
The same lethargy,I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only thedeaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that liein sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sightand hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment ofsight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Theireyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration andwith little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful forwhat we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we areill.
I have oftenthought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaffor a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would makehim more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.
All of us haveread thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified timeto 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 tospend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who havea choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictlydelimited.
Such stories setus thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. Whatevents, what experiences, what associations should we crowd into those lasthours as mortal beings, what regrets?
Sometimes I havethought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should dietomorrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. Weshould live each day with gentleness, vigor and a keenness of appreciationwhich are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama ofmore days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who wouldadopt the Epicurean motto of “Eat, drink, and be merry”. But most people wouldbe chastened by the certainty of impending death.
In stories thedoomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, butalmost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative ofthe meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been notedthat those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellowsweetness to everything they do.
Most of us,however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usuallywe picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, deathis all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endlessvista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitudetoward life.
The same lethargy,I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our faculties and senses. Only thedeaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that liein sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sightand hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment ofsight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Theireyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration andwith little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful forwhat we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we areill.
I have oftenthought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaffor a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would makehim more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.
