He sauntered through the ward spreading cheer. And hope, joy, life.
The energy surging from him flowed around inexhaustibly, and with a pristine finesse. To I, and the others before me, the atmosphere was one of gloom. The end was rapidly ticking for these people. And yet his presence seemed to suggest otherwise. They welcomed him. They laughed and giggled at his shenanigans. The previous week when I arrived, I had struggled to hold back a tear when I heard some recount their tales; their pains, borne with dignified stoicism and calm resignation. For the others before me, these concerns had slowly given way to a taciturn cynicism. And when I questioned the source of his unfledging optimism and strength in the face of this abysmal situation, he replied
“We’ll all die one day. But on other days we’ll live. We can choose to dreadfully anticipate the final moments. Or create wonderful blessings from the moments before“
“Quite riveting“. I thought.
And true to his creed, he spent everyday making them live.
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