Souscrire via RSSArchives de la catégorie ‘La vie’
La petite fille mourante et ses joyeux yeux bruns.
Absolument à lire. Il s’agit de tout une belle histoire sur l’espoir malgré la noirceur qui peut parfois nous envahir, face à la mort.
Voici un commentaire qui a été écrit par un l’utilisateur C4Strife du site DIGG.
Sans le savoir, il a probablement écrit le commentaire le plus marquant d’un des sites le plus lu au monde.
Le commentaire se trouve ici: Pixar grants 10 yr old’s dying wish with home viewing of Up.
_________________________________________
Ok so I am an 18 year old male that just graduated from high school. When I was 12 I had a surgery « Pectus Excavatum» to repair my chest. It left me in the hospital for one week during which I was in the children’s care (post-surgery) ward. Right after the surgery I was moved into my room which I shared with a boy around my brother’s age (who is 15 months older than me).
While I was in and out of conciseness that day but what I do remember is them talking happily. The next morning the boy was gone. My second day, when I was practicing walking I noticed this little girl. Maybe the cutest child I’ve ever seen, no more than two years old but she paler than the whitest sheets. Her mom was pushing her around in a red and yellow plastic car while attached to her was a drip (like mine) only her’s was red. It was probably the scariest thing I had ever seen…I didn’t realize that someone so young could be so ill. She had just had a kidney transplant and was forced to be constantly injected with fresh blood.
On my fifth day I went to the playroom, the nurses had gone around telling our parents to bring us for a performance. It was a man and a woman, two singers but they weren’t what I saw when I entered the room.
I noticed a boy in a wheelchair who I had never seen before but right then I knew he was that boy who talked so happily, so healthily with my brother that first day. Yet here he was bound to a wheelchair and covered in electrical wires as a mummy would be covered in bandages. He was what you might call lifeless, but I know he was not. Even though I did not see any real movement from him I know that he was there trapped in his body that had gone from perfect just a few days ago to what it was in that playroom. I didn’t get it. He was fine! Why did he look so, so not well? The wires were scary, they stemmed from his head and coiled around him. When I listened to him talk a few days ago he seemed nice, he seemed like someone I would be friends with.
The musicians started playing « Brown Eyed Girl» and it was nice…It made me happy, it made us all happy. What happened next influenced my life more than any other event. That same little girl with the blood drip got up, i.v. in hand and started dancing. We all watched as she danced to music, we saw her smile and we could not help but smile, even the boy managed to smile. I did not understand it then, but I do now. Seeing the suffering of that boy right next to the hope of that little girl made me realize that even though there are some fucked up, some unfair things in this world I cant just bitch about it, I need to do something.
So now here I am on the verge of begining my pre-med program. As I type this I am 18 years old. That boy did not live to be my age, Colby Curtin did not live to be my age but I will do everything I can to make it so that when I encounter a child like them they will live. The smile of that little dancing « Brown Eyed» girl made me realize I want to give kids like that the chance to smile, the chance to dance. Sorry if this post was not well written or sounds dumb to anyone but I felt like I just had to say it.
p.s. I didn’t want the post to be too long so I did not put any details in, but if any of you have questions about anything in what I shared with you please ask, I’ll answer them. Oh and yea the article did make me cry by the fifth paragraph.
______________________________________________
Pour cette petite fille, donc, la fameuse chanson sur laquelle elle dansait:
L’État Humain.
J’ai beau être assis peinard, toujours à moitié endormi et fraîchement douché… je reste humain.
La jeunesse se déferle dans les rues d’Iran, le sang gicle et les autos brûlent au fur et à mesure que le président supposément élu s’essaie. Mais, à la fois attristé et outré par cet abus perpétuel des droits humains, je me retrouve content, contenté, presque heureux de voir que c’est souvent dans les endroits les plus noirs qu’on retrouve encore cet espoir indubitablement humain.
Voilà ce qu’est un X et un Y.
Ici, vous trouverez des articles et des commentaires sur la situation humaine, sur la situation du monde. Des billets parfois critiques, des fois poétiques, et même des billets politiques. Certains seront assurément nostalgiques, mais la plupart seront exaltés. Ici on parle de l’état humain. De l’homme, de la femme, des relations entre les deux, entre eux-mêmes, des relations envers soi-même. Ici on parlera de l’autre. On parlera « du politique », mais pas de « la politique ». On parlera malgré le cynisme global ambiant.
Vous ne retrouverez PAS… des critiques perpétuelles sur la situation sombre du monde, de la politique au Québec ou du système économique sale. Vous ne retrouverez pas de longues thèses difficiles à lire sur des sujets nébuleux. Vous ne retrouverez pas de propagande liée à un parti en particulier.
Chez X et Y, vous retrouverez Jimmy D. et Luc Lefebvre. Un de droite, l’autre de gauche. L’un est juif d’origine méditerranéenne, l’autre est québécois d’origine. L’un est de la génération X, l’autre de la plus jeune génération Y. Lui est légèrement cynique et moi légèrement idéaliste. Un est petit, l’autre est grand… mais encore faut-il ne pas se fier uniquement à ce qui rencontre notre rétine.
L’objectif est simple : vous faire comprendre que malgré tout ce qui nous divise, malgré les couleurs qui changent, nous restons tous liés à une seule chose : le genre humain. Si ce site peut vous faire sourire, vous faire réfléchir et recréer cette petite boule au fond de la gorge qu’on a lorsqu’on sent qu’il y a quelque chose qui doit être fait… c’est que nous aurons atteint nos objectifs.
Bienvenue de la part d’un X et d’un Y.