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2. Teil: Kleine Helden April 24, 2006

Posted by The Truth in Im Allgemeinen.

Part II of today's entry is about little heroes.

Eigentlich war ich auf dem Weg vom Flughafen nach Hause, mit dem Auto fahrend, wenn ich Kleine Helden von laith al-Deen spielen hörte. Frag mich nicht warum, aber mit diesem Lied fang ich damit an, viel nachzudenken. I thought about her again (siehe unten) and after what jingyang said…i don't know what to say.

I DO think, however, that that song is really…passend? Fitting i mean.

Little heroes are everywhere in our lives, even if you don't see them perform the greatest of sacrifices or anything to that scale. By staying cheerful and trying to be strong despite the illnesses, she ensures that her friends don't worry themselves even more than they are currently burdened. And a positive attitude is something which every patient needs. Little things, but it's the little things that count, don't they?

I don't know. I really don't.

Then i was watching O Live Lait! by Xavier Naidoo, when he goes into this place for terminally-ill kids in Mannheim and talks to this one little boy who had bones removed for his cancer. And somehow he's all smiles and confidence, having a positive outlook to the future. And i just wonder to myself: how do they do it?

Is it an irrational hopefulness that everything will be okay, that one day they will live on, look back, and say 'wow, what an adventure that was,' or is it an aim to live every day like its their last? Or is it an acceptance of how things already are, and that all they have to do is to make sure that their loved ones do not worry, so that they won't worry too? It's all very upsetting when things come to this, but somehow they have the Durchsetzungsvermögen, the very will to see it through to the very bitter end.

It's true that everyone gets a lifetime – be it 10, 18, 56, 94, 120, or 15,000 years – but yeah, you only get a lifetime. Some who are diagnosed with a terminal illness at a very young age feel that their lives have just been a cruel trick of destiny, a twist of fate never intended for them – they become bitter and withdrawn. Yet some others find it within them to take things a day at a time, to smile at every sunrise and to live each day, no matter how painful it is. Some of these very few even know when it's time to let go.

Und diese Menschen sind unsere Kleine Helden. They'll open the doors to brave new worlds, in spite of their own fears and insecurities. They're the ones who dare to spit in the face of Death, to tell her to come back another day, and then continue to live. Sometimes i wish i had wings and could fly, just so that i could take people who may never ever see such beauty again high up above the city, above the clouds, and give them a view of the heavens, a beautiful picture of many glittering gemstone-like stars and la Luna, ever silent. Sometimes i wish.

But my hands are tied. Fate and Destiny have bound them. Why do they bless some, and curse others? Is life really a game of the Gods? Was there a prologue in Heaven to decide the fates of everyone? Is the Book of Destiny already written and set in stone? How are we to know? Are we just pawns of a never-ending chess game? Are we characters in the never-ending story? 



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