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Saturday, October 8, 2011

A SIMPLE HUMAN STORY CHARGED WITH EMOTION
V SUNDARAM I.A.S.

DR FREDERIC LOOMIS (1877-1949)

For more than 30 years Dr Frederic Loomis (1877-1949) had been a busy obstetrician and gynaecologist in California. He had patiently listened to worried young wives, allayed their fears, given them comfort and advice, and helped them during their deliveries.
A kind and understanding man, he had so completely dedicated himself to his patients and their problems that he had little time for a life of his own. His world, in his own words, 'revolved around sex as a pivot, with love as the motive power and with both happiness and fear as constant companions'.
In 1938, Dr Loomis took a landmark decision in his life. He felt that the time had come for him to retire, and to meditate on the many things he had learned during his long years of practice. He put aside his forceps and took up his pen. 





And one of his first writings was In a Chinese Garden”, the story of a letter from a woman living in China that completely changed his way of life, and which has since changed the lives of many others in all parts of the world.


A CHINESE GARDEN
Dr Loomis wrote about this letter from China as follows: 'I have told many times the story of a certain letter which I received years ago, because the impression it made on me was very deep. And I have told it to several people on ships in distant seas and to countless people by quiet firesides in thousands of homes round the world. This letter has never failed to evoke a reflective and thoughtful response from those around me. Here is the letter which I received from China:
Dear Doctor,
Please don’t be too surprised in getting a letter from me. I am signing only my first name. My surname is the same as yours.

You won’t even remember me. Two years ago I was in your hospital under the care of another doctor. I lost my baby the day it was born.

That same day my doctor came in to see me, and as he left he said, 'Oh, by the way, there is a doctor here with the same name as yours who noticed your name on the board and asked me about you. He said he would like to come in to see you, because you might be a relative. I told him you had lost your baby and I did not think you would want to see anybody, but it was alright with me'.

And then in a little while you came in. You put your hand on my arm and sat down for a moment beside my bed. You did not say much of anything but you eyes and your voice were kind and pretty soon I felt better. As you sat, there I noticed that you looked tired and that the lines in your face were very deep. I never saw you again, but the nurses told me that you were in the hospital practically night and day.

This afternoon I was a guest in a beautiful Chinese home here in Peking. The garden was enclosed by a high wall, and on one side, surrounded by twining red and white flowers, was a brass plate about two feet long. I asked someone to translate the Chinese characters for me. They said:
        'ENJOY YOURSELF
        IT IS LATER THAN YOU THINK'
I began to think about it for myself. I had not wanted another baby because I was still grieving for the one I had just lost. But I decided that moment that I should not wait any longer. Perhaps it may be later than I think, too.

And then, because I was thinking of my baby, I thought of you and the tired lines in your face, and the moment of sympathy you gave me when I so needed it. I don't know how old you are. But I am quite sure you are old enough to be my father; and I know that those few minutes you spent with me meant little or nothing to you of course, but they meant a great deal to a woman who was desperately unhappy.

SO I AM PRESUMPTUOUS AS TO THINK THAT IN TURN I CAN DO SOMETHING FOR YOU TOO. PERHAPS FOR YOU IT IS LATER THAN I THINK. PLEASE FORGIVE ME, BUT WHEN YOUR WORK IS OVER, ON THE DAY YOU GET MY LETTER, PLEASE SIT DOWN VERY QUIETLY, ALL BY YOURSELF, AND THINK ABOUT IT'.
Marguiride.

The above letter had a tremendous impact on Dr Loomis. He went to his clinic next morning and told his staff that he was going away on leave for three months. Till then he had believed that no one could replace him in his clinic. His sudden decision to go on a holiday for three months to Latin America shocked many of the members of his staff. About this experience he wrote: 'When I returned I found there were just as many patients as when I left, everyone had recovered just as fast or faster, and most of my patients did not even know that I had been away’.

It is humiliating to find how quickly and completely one's place is filled, but it is a very good lesson. Thus he learned the cardinal lesson that no one in the world in any position is irreplaceable. In the cut-throat world of professional competition, many of us have forgotten the fact that though several years have been added to the average expectation of life, yet each individual's fate is still an unknown and uncertain hazard. We have to remind ourselves that though we have still many more happier years to live, yet even to do good for others we too have to do something for ourselves; to go places and to do things which we have looked forward to for years.

WE HAVE TO LEARN TO REPLACE COMPETITION WITH A BIT OF CONTEMPLATION. THIS IS THE MESSAGE OF THE BRASS PLATE IN THE CHINESE GARDEN. THAT IS PERHAPS THE MESSAGE FOR EACH OF US .
The above story In a Chinese Garden is a true story. It is from a book called The Bond Between Us, a collection of human interest stories based on the experiences of Dr Loomis as a gynecologist and obstetrician.



Here is another inspiring story from his professional life. Dr Frederic Loomis almost permitted a deformed baby to die during birth. The little girl only had one leg. It was a breech birth. He would be preventing much suffering and inconvenience by allowing the girl to die, he began to rationalise. At the last moment, in a flash, he found that he could not do that.

Seventeen years later he attended a Christmas party. A beautiful young lady played the harp skilfully. He noticed that she had an artificial leg. Her mother approached the obstetrician and reminded him that he was the doctor who helped her in the delivery. The talented young lady had been the same baby girl, whom Dr Frederic Loomis, 17 years earlier, had initially almost allowed to die and whom he finally saved. THAT WAS A GREAT MOMENT OF ECSTASY AND REVELATION FOR Dr Loomis.
FRONT COVER OF BOOK  ‘CONSULTING ROOM’

When Dr Loomis recorded his experiences in his famous books like ‘The Bond Between us’, ‘Consultating Room’ and ‘In a Chinese Garden’, there was instant and widespread response to his stories. Apparently there were many who felt the need for such a timely, provocative and meaningful messages. Letters came from all over the world telling of lives suddenly reappraised and redirected, of worries and tensions relaxed, of vacations and holidays taken for the first time in years. Requests came in a flood from clubs and Societies for Dr Loomis to present his experiences in person to the people.
Many of them were reprinted in the Readers' Digest and many other publications and continued to give evidence of its enormous appeal to the reader. Finally the global demand became so great that it was published as a separate book and foreign editions conveyed its vital message to all parts of the world: 'Enjoy yourself, It is later than you think'.
The story of the unexpected letter from Marguiride from China, how it altered Dr Frederic Loomis's life and reached out to influence the lives of those about him, has become an inspirational classic. A simple, human story, charged with emotion, it has made countless men and women to look to the future with suddenly altered vision, encouraging them to put aside their burdens for a while and enjoy themselves before it is too late.
When I surveyed the stormy and inspiring life of Dr.Fredric Loomis from 1877 to 1949, I was reminded of the beautiful Poem ‘Ode to a Skylark’ by Shelley (1792-1832). Here is the poem

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY (1792-1832).

 Ode to a Skylark


                 Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
                     Bird thou never wert -
                 That from Heaven or near it
                       Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
                Higher still and higher
                     From the earth thou springest,
                Like a cloud of fire;
                     The blue deep thou wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
                In the golden lightning
                    Of the sunken sun,
                O'er which clouds are bright'ning,
                    Thou dost float and run,
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.
                 The pale purple even
                     Melts around thy flight;
                 Like a star of Heaven,
                     In the broad daylight
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight -
                 Keen as are the arrows
                     Of that silver sphere
                 Whose intense lamp narrows
                     In the white dawn clear,
Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.
                 All the earth and air
                    With thy voice is loud,
                 As, when night is bare,
                     From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflowed.
                 What thou art we know not;
                     What is most like thee?
                  From rainbow clouds there flow not
                     Drops so bright to see,
As from thy presence showers a rain of melody: -
                 Like a Poet hidden
                     In the light of thought,
                 Singing hymns unbidden,
                     Till the world is wrought 
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:
                 Like a high-born maiden
                     In a palace-tower,
                 Soothing her love-laden
                     Soul in secret hour
With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:
                 Like a glow-worm golden
                     In a dell of dew,
                 Scattering unbeholden
                     Its aërial hue
Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view:
                   Like a rose embowered
                       In its own green leaves,
                   By warm winds deflowered,
                       Till the scent it gives
Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-wingéd thieves:
                   Sound of vernal showers
                       On the twinkling grass,
                   Rain-awakened flowers -
                       All that ever was
Joyous and clear and fresh - thy music doth surpass.
                    Teach us, Sprite or Bird,
                        What sweet thoughts are thine:
                     I have never heard
                         Praise of love or wine
That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
                     Chorus hymeneal,
                         Or triumphal chant,
                    Matched with thine would be all
                         but an empty vaunt -
A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.
                    What objects are the fountains
                        Of thy happy strain?
                    What fields, or waves, or mountains?
                        What shapes of sky or plain?
What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?
                     With thy clear keen joyance
                          Languor cannot be:
                     Shadow of annoyance
                         Never came near thee:
Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
                     Waking or asleep,
                         Thou of death must deem
                     Things more true and deep
                         Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?
                     We look before and after,
                         And pine for what is not:
                     Our sincerest laughter
                         With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
                     Yet, if we could scorn
                        Hate and pride and fear,
                     If we were things born
                         Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
                     Better than all measures
                         Of delightful sound,
                     Better than all treasures
                         That in books are found,
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
                     Teach me half the gladness
                         That thy brain must know;
                     Such harmonious madness
                         From my lips would flow,
The world should listen then, as I am listening now.



William Henry Davies (1871- 1940)

What is the glorious message that the inspiring saga of splendid life of Dr.Fredric Loomis, marked by selfless service laced with carefully chosen moments of noble relaxation, can give to us? My answer will be the following great poem of William Henry Davies:


‘What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare. 
No time to stand beneath the boughs 
And stare as long as sheep or cows. 
No time to see, when woods we pass, 
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. 
No time to see, in broad daylight, 
Streams full of stars, like skies at night. 
No time to turn at Beauty's glance, 
And watch her feet, how they can dance. 
No time to wait till her mouth can 
Enrich that smile her eyes began. 
A poor life this if, full of care, 
We have no time to stand and stare.’

Monday, September 19, 2011

THE GLORIOUS HEROISM OF PENG SHUILIN

THE GLORIOUS HEROISM OF PENG SHUILIN
V.SUNDARAM I.A.S.

"It is a waste of time to be angry about my disability. One has to get on with life and I haven't done badly. People won't have time for you if you are always angry or complaining." - Stephen Hawking

"I discovered early that the hardest thing to overcome is not a physical disability but the mental condition which it induces. The world, I found, has a way of taking a man pretty much at his own rating. If he permits his loss to make him embarrassed and apologetic, he will draw embarrassment from others. But if he gains his own respect, the respect of those around him comes easily." - Alexander de Seversky



THE PHENOMENON OF PENG SHUILIN

I am presenting below the inspiring saga of courage and supreme conquest of fear by a Chinese citizen called PENG SHUILIN whose body was sliced into two halves when he was run over by a freight truck in 1995. I have accessed the following information through the internet

HALF MAN - HALF PRICE STORE ~ THE STORY OF PENG SHUILIN

In life we keep complaining about what is or why we don't have. Half the time we seem dissatisfied, though full-bodied and free to choose. Fat people say, “I want to be slim."
Skinny people say, “I want to be fatter." Poor people want to be rich and rich are never satisfied with what they have.



Peng Shuilin’s severed body after the accident in 1995


PENG Shuilin is 78cms high. He was born in Hunan Province, China....In 1995, in Shenzhen, a freight truck sliced his body in half. His lower body and legs were beyond repair.


Surgeons sewed up his torso. Peng Shuilin, 37, spent nearly two years in hospital in Shenzhen, southern China. Undergoing a series of operations to re-route nearly every major organ or system inside his body. Peng kept exercising his arms, building up strength, washing his face and brushing his teeth. He survived against all odds. 


Now Peng Shulin has astounded doctors by learning to walk again after a decade.





Considering Peng's plight, doctors at the China Rehabilitation Research Centre in Beijing devised an ingenious way to allow him to walk on his own, creating a sophisticated egg cup-like casing to hold his body, with two bionic legs attached. It took careful consideration, skilled measurement and technical expertise. Peng has been walking the corridors of Beijing Rehabilitation Centre with the aid of his specially adapted legs and a re-sized walking frame.




RGO is a recipicating gait orthosis, attached to a prosthetic socket bucket.
There is a cable attached to both legs so when one goes forward, the other goes backwards. Rock to the side, add a bit of a twist and the leg without the weight on it advances, while the other one stays still, giving a highly inefficient way of ambulation.




Oh so satisfying to 'walk' again after ten years with half a body! Exclaimed PENG SHUILIN



Hospital vice-president Lin Liu said: "We've just given him a checkup; he is fitter than most men of his age." Peng Shuilin has opened his own bargain supermarket, Called the Half Man-Half Price Store.

The inspirational 37-year-old has become a businessman And is used as a role model for other amputees. At just 2ft 7ins tall, he moves around in a wheelchair giving lectures on recovery from disability. His attitude is amazing, he doesn't complain. "He had good care, but his secret is cheerfulness. Nothing ever gets him down." You have a whole body. You have feet. Now you have met a man who has no feet. His life is a feat of endurance, a triumph of the human spirit in overcoming extreme adversity. Next time you want to complain about something trivial, don't. 
Remember Peng Shulin instead. 

What is strikingly unique and astonishing about Peng Shuilin is that he always endeavours to be joyous and happy, blissful and cheerful, despite the dark and grim tragedy that overtook him in 1995 when a freight truck cut his body into two parts. He seems to declare with an unshakeable resolve and unbending determination all the time that "I am neither an optimist nor pessimist, but a possibilist. Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced."

In this context, the following beautiful words of Helen Keller (1880-1968) are very relevant and worth quoting:

"If I regarded my life from the point of view of the pessimist, I should be undone. I should seek in vain for the light that does not visit my eyes and the music that does not ring in my ears. I should beg night and day and never be satisfied. I should sit apart in awful solitude, a prey to fear and despair. But since I consider it a duty to myself and to others to be happy, I escape a misery worse than any physical deprivation."

We cannot expect to live always on a smooth and even plane. We all face insurmountable problems, unabating worries and monstrous fears. We get tortured by setbacks, sorrows and misfortunes. There are deep rivers and deeper valleys to be crossed along the stormy path of life. They are a challenge to human endurance. But indomitable courage conquers all these hurdles. Down through the ages poets and philosophers in both East and West have been telling us so in a variety of ways.

“The things courage can do”

Long ago an Eastern Monarch, plagued by many worries harassed on every side, called his wise men together. He asked them to invent a motto, a few magic words that would help him in time of trial or disaster or distress. It must be brief enough to be engraved on a ring, he said, so that he could have it always before his eyes. It must be appropriate to every situation, as useful in prosperity as in adversity. It must be a motto wise and true and endlessely enduring, words by which a man could be guided all his life, in every circumstance, no matter what happened.

The wise men thought and thought, and finally came to the monarch with their magic words. They were words for every change or chance of fortune, declared the wise men…..words to fit every situation, good or bad…..words to ease the heart and mind in every circumstance. And the words they gave the monarch to engrave on his ring were:

“This, too, shall pass away”

Century after century, from the beginning of time, this old legend has survived to this day. They have survived because these words are wise and true and endlessly enduring. They have proved their power over and over again through the centuries, to uncounted number men and children, in every land in every age and every conceivable situation. Thy have given comfort to the afflicted, courage to the frightened, hope to the worried and distressed. “This, too, shall pass away”. Poets and philosophers have stressed these five (5) magic words over and over again, each in his own fashion but always with the same inspiring influence.


Paul Hamilton Hayne (1830-1886)

One day, about a 100 years ago, an American editor came across the above legend and was impressed by this ancient wisdom. He was Paul Hamilton Hayne, distinguished also as a writer of light verse. He was so enchanted by the legend that he published a brief story about it, and was astonished by the tremendous and lively interest it created. So he decided---as many had before, and many have since---to write some verses about the famous phrase . By some strange and mysterious alchemy, his simple lines of verse made an enormous appeal to the public. For many many years “This, too, shall pass away”, by Paul Hamilton Hayne, were carried around in purse and pocket by thousands and thousands of common people in America and England---getting enshrined in the hearts of people as their most favourite inspirational poem. I am giving below the full text of Paul Hamilton Hayne’s poem

        'Art thou in misery, brother? Then I pray
        Be comforted. Thy grief shall pass away.
        Art thou elated? Ah, be not too gay;
        Temper thy joy, this, too, shall pass away.
        Art thou in danger? Still let reason sway,
        And cling to hope: this, too, shall pass away.
        Tempted art thou? In all thine anguish lay
        One truth to heart: this, too, shall pass away.
        Do rays of loftier glory round these play?
        Kinglike art thou? This, too, shall pass away!
        Where'er thou art, where'er thy footsteps stray,
        Heed these words: This too shall pass away!


As I have already stated Paul Hayne’s poem won wide popularity in his own day; and it has kept circulating ever since, continuing to have its influence on the afflicted, the distraught, the discouraged. Every now and then it makes a tour of the newspapers or feature din magazines. Sometimes it appears with a different title, or with lines changed to suit the times, or with new verses added or subtracted.

Many other poets have also used the same theme and title, before and since. But the philosophy is always the same, and always helpful to the troubled or the despairing. I came across another poem which is as inspiring as Paul Hamilton Hayne’s poem cited above. I am presenting below this poem

This, Too, Shall Pass Away
 by: Lanta Wilson Smith, Source Unknown

When some great sorrow, like a mighty river,
Flows through your life with peace-destroying power
And dearest things are swept from sight forever,
Say to your heart each trying hour:
"This, too, shall pass away."

When ceaseless toil has hushed your song of gladness,
And you have grown almost too tired to pray,
Let this truth banish from your heat its sadness,
And ease the burdens of each tring day:
"This, too, shall pass away."

When fortune smiles, and, full of mirth and pleasure,
The days are flitting by without a care,
Lest you should rest with only earthly treasure,
Let these few words their fullest import bear:
"This, too, shall pass away."

When earnest labour brings you fame and glory,
And all earth's noblest ones upon you smile,
Remember that life's longest, grandest story
Fills but a moment in earth's little while:
"This, too, shall pass away."

Very much like the soothing and comforting inspirational poems of Paul Hamilton Hayne and Lanta Wilson Smith, is another poem by Grace Noll Crowell.


Grace Noll Crowell (1877-1969)

Grace Noll Crowell was an American poet and the author of 36 books of inspirational verse and 5,000 poems. Her work has appeared in hundreds of magazines and newspapers. Given an opportunity, I would very much love to chant the following poem sitting by the side of PENG SHUILIN.

This, too, will pass. O heart, say it over and over,
Out of your deepest sorrow, out of your deepest grief,
No hurt can last forever—perhaps tomorrow
Will bring relief.

This, too, will pass. It will spend itself—its fury
Will die as the wind dies down with the setting sun;
Assuaged and calm, you will rest again, forgetting
A thing that is done.

Repeat it again and again, O heart, for your comfort;
This, too, will pass as surely as passed before
The old forgotten pain, and the other sorrows
That once you bore.

As certain as stars at night, or dawn after darkness,
Inherent as the lift of the blowing grass,
Whatever your despair or your frustration—
This, too, will pass.

WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY (1849-19O3)

Seeing the unflinching, unswerving, indomitable, inflexible and irrepressible spirit of PENG SHUILIN, I am reminded of another heroic character called WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY who fought against a fell bodily disease for over 3 decades, undergoing a series of operations one after the other in almost interminable succession. Once when he was recovering from a dreadful surgical operation done by the pioneering English surgeon Dr. Joseph Lister(1827-1912), he wrote one of the most moving, inspiring and sublime poems in the English language called INVICTUS.

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Out of the pain and suffering of his own personal life, out of the courage, and faith, and fortitude with which he accepted the cruel blows of fate one after the other, came “INVICTUS”—one of the most emotionally powerful and uplifting poems ever written. Today in English speaking schools all over the world, children learn to memorise and recite this inspiring poem. Though they may not entirely understand the meaning of its words, they feel the unmistakable impact of its force and power. And to countless thousands of men and women faced with sorrow, pain or fear, it has brought the courage to accept the blows of fate, to triumph over physical handicaps, and carry on with head unbowed.

William Henley wrote many poems in his lifetime, but on the strength of “INVICTUS” alone he has won immortality. ‘Invictus’ has brought new hope and the will to live to many who nearly lost their way, many who werer on the point of giving up. ‘Invictus’ belongs to mankind, now and for all the ages to come. Of all the poems ever written, this one perhaps typifies man’s rich inspirational heritage. If ‘Invictus’ has attained immortality and belongs to all mankind, so is the heroic example of PENG SHUILIN, THE SAGA OF WHOSE LIFE ALSO BELONGS TO THE AGES.

The best tribute I can pay to PENG SHUILIN for the spectacular victory of his indomitable spirit over his flesh can only be in the soaring words of WALT WHITMAN.


WALT WHITMAN (1819-1892).


O joy of suffering!
To struggle against great odds! to meet enemies undaunted!
To be entirely alone with them! to find how much one can stand!
To look strife, torture, prison, popular odium, death, face to face!
To mount the scaffold! to advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect
nonchalance!
TO BE INDEED A GOD!