Earn This

I was sitting in Starbucks enjoying a coffee and catching up on work. It was mid morning, my favourite time of the day as most folks have gone to work and the place is generally quiet and peaceful. While I was sitting there, in walked a father carrying his young son in his arms. A beautiful child, no older than 4, with his tiny head resting on his dad’s shoulder, one little arm swung over the opposite shoulder, the other hanging down swinging in unison with his skinny legs that moved gently with every move the father made. If it wasn’t for his open eyes, I would have easily said the child was peacefully and happily napping in the safety of his daddy’s embrace.

Those of you that are parents know the feeling, their breath against your neck, the contented sigh as they rest in the total peace that they are in the safest place in the world.

This lovely child, however, had no hair, was very thin, and had a medical tube taped across and coming out of one nostril. You see, the Starbucks I was at, was inside a hospital. As this scene played out in front of me as if in slow motion, my mind regressed to about an hour earlier when on my way through the building, I had momentarily glanced a sign that read, “Children’s Hospice”. Two abstract words printed on a sign board suddenly had manifested into reality in this unassuming coffee house. These two words suddenly had a face, a sad and weary little face, and being carried by what I can only imagine would be a body housing a heart that must weigh the equivalent of an ocean liner. 

Now, I didn’t know if my connection between these two events were accurate, nor did I know the actual medical condition of this young soul, but that didn’t mean there were not children in that ward or parent’s of those children. Nor did it stop the tears from forming in my eyes as I looked into the eyes of the boy. What if? what if he was one of them? I suddenly remembered the story of a friend and amazing guy, Jimmy Ong (https://youtu.be/Ue2O2fXtLME). If anyone has ever heard Jimmy speak about his experience, they would, l like myself, have been given but a glimpse of the anguish a parent who has lost a child might experience.

As they walked out of the coffee house, they walked out of my existence, my sight and my mind, and as I continued with my work, the memory of what I saw slowly faded as “normality” resumed once more. 

I have obviously not forgotten about that tragic scene nor that face of that little boy or his fathers', by mere fact that I am writing this article. But what I failed to mention, and what I would assume most of you would have been thinking also, is the undeniable urge to want to do something about it. Anyone with half a heart would most certainly be compelled by the awareness of such situations to want to “fix” them, and would be surely disheartened by our own apparent powerlessness;

Anyone who has lost someone dear to them, especially a child because of their youth and unrealised potential on this earth, have probably though one of more of the following:

• If only they they had more time
• If only we could have found a cure
• If only the doctors could do more
• If only God would listen and answer our prayers!
• I would give anything for one more minute with them
• I would give anything for a chance to say “….
• I would give anything for one more smile, hear their laughter or voice one more time, to hold their hand and hold them…just one more time.

Well, very rarely if ever does anyone get that chance. It is the fate of some dear souls to no longer be with us on earth anymore. Yes, it is indeed tragic, and yes the pain is very real, severe, and long lasting. My heart sincerely goes out to anyone suffering this.

At this point what came to mind was a scene from the movie “Saving Private Ryan”. The scene was near the end where most of the soldiers tasked with saving this particular man in WWII, private Ryan, were already dead. The last of them, the Captain, was sitting behind cover, covered in his own blood, dying in front of private Ryan. He looks into private Ryan’s eyes, considering all the lives that were lost, including his own, sacrificed so that Ryan could live, and whispers in his ear...“Earn This!”.

It’s true we can do nothing except mourn about those that have been lost to this world. But we are still here. We have ALL the things that have been wished and hoped and prayed about for them that were lost. We are here…we are alive…we have the chance so many do not. But do we live in awareness of that incredible fact? Do we live as if we are in possession of something priceless that so many dreamed and prayed about yet did not receive?

How different would life be if every day we woke up with the mindset to “EARN THIS”? Earn this priceless gift that we did not deserve or win or pay for! If we realised the true value or rather were overwhelmed by the thought of the value of just being alive, would anything be different? Would we take better care of ourselves? Would we be doing something we love? Would we strive to be the best version of ourselves in everything we do? Would we want to make difference?

I once saw a quote that read, “most people die at 25 but are only buried at 75”. Are we living as if we are waiting to die? Are we living in such utter complacency and totally in disregard to what we have, that the young father in the beginning of this article would have happily given his own life for so that his son could also have?

I am ashamed to say I do not. There are days where I wake up and look back at the years gone by and wonder what happened to them, how they were wasted, and for the most part they were exactly that, wasted. 

I am reminded of a quote by one of my favourite authors, Paulo Coelho;

   “If today looks like yesterday, there is something wrong with you”

I’m certain if that little boy i saw that day, and thousands more like him, had the chance to say one thing to the world and to us individually, it would be something along the lines of “Earn This”…”live”.

May all those lost souls rest in peace…and may all of us that are still here, that still have a chance, live with purpose.