Three Days to See(Excerpts)假如給我三天光明(節(jié)選)

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 panomp3a 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 pemp3anent 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 impaimp3ent 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.

假如給我三天光明(節(jié)選)

我們都讀過震撼人心的故事，故事中的主人公只能再活一段很有限的時(shí)光，有時(shí)長達(dá)一年，有時(shí)卻短至一日。但我們總是想要知道，注定要離世人的會選擇如何度過自己最后的時(shí)光。當(dāng)然，我說的是那些有選擇權(quán)利的自由人，而不是那些活動(dòng)范圍受到嚴(yán)格限定的死囚。

這樣的故事讓我們思考，在類似的處境下，我們該做些什么?作為終有一死的人，在臨終前的幾個(gè)小時(shí)內(nèi)我們應(yīng)該做什么事，經(jīng)歷些什么或做哪些聯(lián)想?回憶往昔，什么使我們開心快樂?什么又使我們悔恨不已?

有時(shí)我想，把每天都當(dāng)作生命中的最后一天來邊，也不失為一個(gè)極好的生活法則。這種態(tài)度會使人格外重視生命的價(jià)值。我們每天都應(yīng)該以優(yōu)雅的姿態(tài)，充沛的精力，抱著感恩之心來生活。但當(dāng)時(shí)間以無休止的日，月和年在我們面前流逝時(shí)，我們卻常常沒有了這種子感覺。當(dāng)然，也有人奉行“吃，喝，享受”的享樂主義信條，但絕大多數(shù)人還是會受到即將到來的死亡的懲罰。

在故事中，將死的主人公通常都在最后一刻因突降的幸運(yùn)而獲救，但他的價(jià)值觀通常都會改變，他變得更加理解生命的意義及其永恒的精神價(jià)值。我們常常注意到，那些生活在或曾經(jīng)生活在死亡陰影下的人無論做什么都會感到幸福。

然而，我們中的大多數(shù)人都把生命看成是理所當(dāng)然的。我們知道有一天我們必將面對死亡，但總認(rèn)為那一天還在遙遠(yuǎn)的將來。當(dāng)我們身強(qiáng)體健之時(shí)，死亡簡直不可想象，我們很少考慮到它。日子多得好像沒有盡頭。因此我們一味忙于瑣事，幾乎意識不到我們對待生活的冷漠態(tài)度。

我擔(dān)心同樣的冷漠也存在于我們對自己官能和意識的運(yùn)用上。只有聾子才理解聽力的重要，只有盲人才明白視覺的可貴，這尤其適用于那些成年后才失去視力或聽力之苦的人很少充分利用這些寶貴的能力。他們的眼睛和耳朵模糊地感受著周圍的景物與聲音，心不在焉，也無所感激。這正好我們只有在失去后才懂得珍惜一樣，我們只有在生病后才意識到健康的可貴。

我經(jīng)常想，如果每個(gè)人在年輕的時(shí)候都有幾天失時(shí)失聰，也不失為一件幸事。黑暗將使他更加感激光明，寂靜將告訴他聲音的美妙。