A hypothetical ethical question
comes to the man as he sits look-
ing out the window after reading
about Hellen Keller. Keller lived
an unbelievably productive life
for any human being let alone
a deaf and blind person. He has
a bad eye, only forty percent
sight. What if he lost all his sight?
He closes his eyes and sees noth-
ing except what he remembers
to be out the window. He wonders
if at his age it would be right to
find purpose in his blindness, or,
given his certain dependence on
loved ones, would the ethical thing
be to just leave or would that be
the coward’s way out? With eyes
closed, he contemplates the differ-
ence between euthanasia and suicide
and wonders if it’s just an exercise
in semantics. He opens his eyes and
sighs.
When I was a teenager living in postwar Japan, our class went to hear a famous woman but all we saw were two old ladies holding hands. We snickered. Then fingers moved in palms and a strained voice said: Herro chidren! I am Herren Kerrer. Quiet happened and minds opened to a miracle.