A New Look from Borrowed Time

By Ralph Richmond

Just ten years ago, I sat across the desk from a doctor with a stethoscope. “Yes,” he said, “there is a lesion in the left, upper lobe. You have a moderately advanced case…” I listened, stunned, as he continued, “You’ll have to give up work at once and go to bed. Later on, we’ll see.” He gave no assurances.

Feeling like a man who in mid-career has suddenly been placed under sentence of death with an indefinite reprieve, I left the doctor’s office, walked over to the park, and sat down on a bench, perhaps, as I then told myself, for the last time. I needed to think. In the next three days, I cleared up my affairs; then I went home, got into bed, and set my watch to tick off not the minutes, but the months. 2 years and many dashed hopes later, I left my bed and began the long climb back. It was another year before I made it.

I speak of this experience because these years that past so slowly taught me what to value and what to believe. They said to me: Take time, before time takes you. I realize now that this world I’m living in is not my oyster to be opened but my opportunity to be grasped. Each day, to me, is a precious entity. The sun comes up and presents me with 24 brand new, wonderful hours—not to pass, but to fill.

I’ve learned to appreciate those little, all-important things I never thought I had the time to notice before: the play of light on running water, the music of the wind in my favorite pine tree. I seem now to see and hear and feel with some of the recovered freshness of childhood. How well, for instance, I recall the touch of the springy earth under my feet the day I first stepped upon it after the years in bed. It was almost more than I could bear. It was like regaining one’s citizenship in a world one had nearly lost.

Frequently, I sit back and say to myself, Let me make note of this moment I’m living right now, because in it I’m well, happy, hard at work doing what I like best to do. It won’t always be like this, so while it is I’ll make the most of it—and afterwards, I remember—and be grateful. All this, I owe to that long time spent on the sidelines of life. Wiser people come to this awareness without having to acquire it the hard way. But I wasn’t wise enough. I’m wiser now, a little, and happier.

“Look thy last on all things lovely, every hour.” With these words, Walter de la Mare sums up for me my philosophy and my belief. God made this world—in spite of what man now and then tries to do to unmake it—a dwelling place of beauty and wonder, and He filled it with more goodness than most of us suspect. And so I say to myself, Should I not pretty often take time to absorb the beauty and the wonder, to contribute a least a little to the goodness? And should I not then, in my heart, give thanks? Truly, I do. This I believe.

第二次生命的启示

拉尔夫.里士满

十年前的一天，我坐在一名手持听诊器的医生对面。“你的左肺叶上部确实有一处坏损，而且病情正在恶化”——听到这里，我整个人一下懵了。“你必须停止工作卧床休息，有待观察。”医生对我的病情也是不置可否。

就这样，事业方面方兴未艾的我仿佛突然被人判了死刑，却说不准何时执刑。我离开医生的办公室，来到公园的长椅上坐下。这也许是最后一次来这儿了，我对自己说。我真得好好整理一下思绪。

接下来的三天我把手头的事务全部处理完毕。我回到家，躺到床上，然后把手表从显示分钟改为显示月份。

两年半的时间过去了，在无数次的失望之后，我终于可以离开病床，艰难地向从前的生活状态回归。一年之后，我做到了。

我之所以谈起这段经历，是因为那段度日如年的岁月让我懂得应该珍惜什么，信仰什么。那段岁月让我明白一个道理：牢牢抓住时间，而不是让时间将你套牢。

现在我终于明白，我生活着的这个世界不是等待我去打开的一扇牡蛎，而是需要我去抓住的一个机会。每一天我都视若珍宝，每一轮太阳带给我的崭新的二十四小时都鲜活而精彩，我绝不可将其虚度。

从前，我终日忙碌，无暇顾及生活中某些重要的细节，诸如水波上的光影，松林间的风吟——现在，我终于学会去欣赏它们的美好。

如今，我仿佛重返童年，又觉得自己所见所闻所感的一切都那么新鲜。当我卧床数年后重新将双脚踏在大地上的那一刻，脚下那久违了的松软土壤让我激动得情难自抑，仿佛重新拥有我差一点就失去的世界。