Though there aren't many stories available, I found this one to be particularly interesting:
Stan has traveled 29.3 kilometers from his home in Toronto to the home of his friend in a Mississauga high-rise. Before he gets out of his car, Stan puts on a surgical mask, leather gloves, and sunglasses.
Stan wears the mask because he is worried about Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome, a disease which has a global case fatality rate of between seven and fifteen percent -- estimates vary. He is also worried about Ebola haemorrhagic fever, which has a global case fatality rate of about 90%. Two nearly-recovered patients with SARS are presently 47.2 kilometers away from Stan in Toronto General Hospital. The nearest Ebola patients are in Africa, 12,580 kilometers from Stan.
Stan is not worried about Mrs. Imelda Foster, who is cleaning a penthouse apartment. If Stan even knew about Mrs. Foster, he would appreciate her enthusiasm for bleach as a disinfectant. Mrs. Foster's eyesight is not what it used to be, and she compensates by going over the same surface repeatedly.
Stan wears gloves because he is worried about spider bites. The only venomous spider in Ontario is the northern widow, Latrodectus various, which produces venom fifteen times as toxic as the venom of a prairie rattlesnake. Although the spider injects much less venom than a snake with each bite, nearly one-percent of L. various bites are fatal. Fatalities are concentrated in the very young and the very sick. Stan is thirty-seven years old and in good physical condition. Still, he does not put his hand where he cannot see, and he wears gloves just in case.
Stan is not worried about Tanya Scott, the four-year-old girl who lives in the penthouse apartment where Mrs. Imelda Foster is cleaning. If Stan knew of little Tanya's existence, he would appreciate Mrs. Foster's diligence with the vacuum cleaner everywhere in the apartment, even on the balcony. There are zero spider webs in the penthouse apartment.
Stan wears sunglasses. The sun is expected to radiate peacefully for another 5 billion years, but in the course of that time its luminosity will double to a brilliance that Stan finds alarming.
Stan does not worry about a glass swan figurine weighing 457 grams. Yesterday Tanya Scott moved the swan from its place on the coffee table to the balcony railing where she could see it in the sunlight. Tanya left the swan on the railing. Mrs. Foster does not see the swan when she brings the vacuum cleaner out to tidy up the balcony. She knocks the swan from the railing with the vacuum cleaner wand.
At the moment that the swan begins its descent, Stan is 38 meters from a point directly below the falling swan. He is proceeding toward that point in a straight line and at a steady pace of 3.2 kilometers per hour. A falling object accelerates at the rate of approximately 10 meters/second/second. The railing is 112 meters above the sidewalk.
Question: Is Stan worrying about the right things?
Do we give the proper value?
Aren’t we forgetting the real value of what surrounds us? Do we look at things with objectivity? Can we remember that we are just lucky to be born here, in this side of the planet? Do we hardly leave our stressed lives and our small world to think about injustice, war, hunger, that millions of human beings are suffering? If so, it is time to stop that tendency and save what should be better in each of us, in all human kind, that is, feelings of compassion, solidarity, capacity of feeling.
And why does it happen? Is it frightening to go on to the other side? I think that it is more comfortable for us, to treat those problems as a hermetical environment, a place where we don’t want to go often. But I’m sure that, even if we are blind, one day it will overlap on us.
We treat our lives as microcosms of the world, we want it to be perfect, and we work for it. However, in order to be really happy, we must use our skills, use our intelligence, our heart, basically we are not outsiders of the humanity and its problems, but instead we have to assume our responsibilities and start working for a better world, to leave a legacy to the future.
After we realise what the object is, we can start thinking in all those protagonists of an unfair world. And then, we will remember when we take a simple glass of water, that millions have no drinking water at all and must walk several miles to obtain only a few litters and most of them are vulnerable children. We must imperatively appreciate the small things near us. Absolutely never forget to appreciate life, family, music, silence, peace, beauty, nature, children, company, laughs, friendship, books…(and so on).
Basically, I wrote about this theme because of the book I just finished reading, called “The Book Thief”, from Marcus Zusak, an Australian writer. This book tells us about a little girl living through the World War II. One passage from the book describes us how important small things are. Liesel receives from a neighbour the ration portion of coffee, a true treasure in those days, in exchange for reading a book, sometimes in Frau Holtzapfel`s house and other times inside the anti-bomb shelter.
Somehow we will manage to be complete human beings, despite this modern life which is fragmented by technologies and stress, and I’m sure, we will finally be able to continuously communicate and share our feelings.
Paula
18/o1/2009
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A new experience
Hello!I´m Paula , I´m 42 years-old and I´m living in Lisbon but I spend my weekends in a country house!
I feel passion for my daughter and my family.
During the year, I use to go several times to Prague ,in order to visit my child that´s currently studying Medicine there. I just love that city, we can go everyday to concerts or ballet cheaper than the cinema. My hobbies are books, books, books, music , music , music ( classical/opera). My favourite performer was, is Maria Callas.
I also spend my free time, taking care of my garden and cooking, when possible I attend to some workshops to learn more about foreign cuisines and painting.
I´m always dreaming about the next travel!
At this point of my life I´m completely focused in my studies, I´m loving this new experience.
Best Wishes!
Prague
Merry Christmas
When snow is shaken
From the balsam trees
And they're cut down
And brought into our houses
When clustered sparks
Of many-colored fire
Appear at night
In ordinary windows
We hear and sing
The customary carols
They bring us ragged miracles
And hay and candles
And flowering weeds of poetry
That are loved all the more
Because they are so common
But there are carols
That carry phrases
Of the haunting music
Of the other world
A music wild and dangerous
As a prophet's message
Or the fresh truth of children
Who though they come to us
From our own bodies
Are altogether new
With their small limbs
And birdlike voices
They look at us
With their clear eyes
And ask the piercing questions
God alone can answer.
Anne Porter
Merry Christmas ,
Paula
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