It was a cold and awfully quiet February last 2003 in Hong Kong. The once crowded streets, where shoppers, employees, students, and tourists had converged and roamed around, had been emptied out and become deserted. One of the world’s busiest cities, once brimming with life, commerce and energy, had become shrouded by a profound sense of grief and melancholy due to the outbreak of SARS.
One particular afternoon, as I was walking towards home after school, I chanced upon an elderly man who slipped and collapsed right in front of me. Were it in other days, I would not have hesitated to assist him. But this was a time of SARS: a time of doubt, calamity, and danger. We are kept yardsticks away from people at the fears that one of them may be afflicted with the disease. My mind was conditioned to see the old man as a carrier and thus I had difficulty in choosing to lend a helping hand. In the midst of this indecision, a woman stepped up forward and, without any repercussions, had reached to pull him up. The woman had on an unmistakable expression of courage and determination that remained etched in my mind, along with the memory of burning shame and gnawing guilt for having been a coward in the face of need. It was so much easier to turn away than to make the least effort or muster the slightest courage, especially when there was no apparent reason for me to do so except a call of my conscience.
The woman was very much a stranger as I am, but what made the difference was the effort she made to assist the elderly man. Somehow, this makes the woman step above me. She would exude the same bravery the late Dr. Joanna Tse Yuen-Man had when she died of the same disease she had been working in the frontline to help find a treatment. While the woman did not perform a daring feat such as directly attending to SARS patients, the woman similarly was fired by that same determination of helping against all odds. In that matter, the woman is as great as Dr. Tse was.
Ultimately, as I recognize this deep sense of regret of having not done anything that particular afternoon encounter, I would undoubtedly consider this as a mistake I would eagerly want to correct should I be given a chance to turn back time. The truth remains that mistakes are, by nature, accomplished and finished in the past. However, this does not imply that we cannot do anything else. In Dubliners, James Joyce wrote that “Mistakes are the portals of discovery.” Mistakes exist not only as failed actions, but also as a means towards learning so that we may not commit the same act again in the future. In this manner, mistakes are stepping stones that allow us to be better persons and so we may do the right decisions the next time. In this situation, I have made the mistake of not helping the elderly man when he lost his step and fell down. I have made a mistake for prioritizing my selfish fears and trepidations despite the fact that my hands were gloved and I could certainly step up to help him. It would not take so long and so much effort in my part at all. Needless to say I have failed to muster the strength and bravery needed. However, this very act will allow me to have the strength and bravery in the next predicaments to come. The next time I would be able to do things right the way I want them to be. In that merest mistake I am able to mature and grow to act more responsibly.
Today, in my student years, I choose to make this a career. As the Dean-appointed Student leader I am able to unmake the mistake by performing the initiative and my innate responsibility as a human being to help others fearlessly and without hesitations. When conflicts between students should rise, I do not try to brush them off to avoid trouble. Rather, I choose to confront it and sort it out. If life shrinks or expands according to how courageous we are as Anais Nin said, I hope to be committed to an expansive life.
Credit:ivythesis.typepad.com
0 comments:
Post a Comment