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Three Days to See

If I had three days of light

Helen Keller /Helen Keller

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 twenty-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 up thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What associations should we crowd 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 a gentleness, a 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,” most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.

We have all read some touching stories in which the protagonist will soon die. It can take as long as one year and as short as 24 hours. But we always wonder how the person who is about to die decided to spend his last days.

Of course, I am referring to free people who have the right to make choices, not death row inmates whose activities are strictly restricted.

Stories like this will make us think about what we should do in similar situations. What associations do we make in those final hours? How much relief and regret will there be?

Sometimes I think that it is a good rule of life to live every day as if it is the last day of your life. This attitude towards life makes people attach great importance to the value of life. Each day should be lived with kindness, energy, and warm appreciation, the very things we often overlook as the days ahead come to us. Of course, there are some people who pursue the hedonistic motto of eating, drinking and having fun, but most people cannot get rid of the fear of approaching death.

Most of us 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 task, hardly aware of our listless attitude towards life.

The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of 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 sound hazily, without concentration, and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we 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.

Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods , and I asked her what

she had observed. “Nothing in particular,” she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.

Most of us Taking life for granted, we understand that one day we will die, but we often see this day as very far away. When we are physically strong, death becomes unimaginable. We rarely think about it and the days go by with seemingly no end. So we rush about trivial matters without realizing that our attitude towards life is indifferent.

I think we are equally apathetic in the use of all our five senses. Only the deaf cherish hearing, and only the blind can appreciate the luck of being able to see. This is especially true for those who have become blind or unaccompanied as adults. But those who have never suffered hearing or vision loss rarely take full advantage of these fortunate abilities, paying little attention to and appreciating what they see and hear. This is the same as the saying that if you don’t lose, you won’t know how precious it is, and if you don’t get sick, you won’t know how valuable health is.

I often think that it would be a blessing for everyone to be deaf or blind for a few days early in his adult life. Darkness will make him appreciate light more; silence will teach him the joy of sound.

Sometimes I test my non-blind friends to see what they see. Recently a very close friend of mine came to see me and she had just taken a long walk in the woods and I asked her what she had seen. "Nothing special," she replied. If I hadn't been used to such an answer, I might not have believed it so easily, because a long time ago I believed that people with eyesight can't see anything.

How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently in a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have cool waters of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips. At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of color and action fill the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which we have and to long for that

which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light and the gift of sight is used only as mere convenience rather that as a means of adding fullness to life.

Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for three days!

I asked myself how could I not see anything noteworthy after walking in the woods for an hour? And I, a blind man, discovered hundreds of interesting things just by touch. I feel the symmetrical beauty of the leaves and touch the smooth bark of the birch or the thick, rough bark of the pine. In spring, I touch the branches with hope and look for new buds, which is the first sign of nature waking up after the winter eye. I felt the cuteness and fuzzy feeling of the flower, and found that it bloomed in layers, and the magic of nature was displayed in front of me. When I place my hand gently on a small tree, and if I am lucky, I occasionally feel the joyful quiver of a singing bird. I will happily let the cool water flow between my hands. To me, a thick layer of pine needles and soft lawn are more endearing than a luxurious Persian rug. To me, the changing scenery of the seasons is like a thrilling and never-ending drama, in which the actions of the characters flow through my fingertips. My heart is shouting from time to time, with a longing for light. Since just touching brings me so much joy, the light must reveal many more beautiful things. It is a pity that those who have eyes clearly see very little, and the colorful colors and activities of the entire world are taken for granted. Maybe it's a human characteristic not to cherish what you already have and to want what you haven't got yet, but in the bright world, vision is only used as a convenient tool instead of a tool to enrich life. What a pity this is. .

Oh, if I had three days of light, how many things would I see