Each Day Is a Gift, Not a Given Right

I believe in Nickelback’s lyrics that state “each day is a gift and not a given right”. I believe we should seize each new day and appreciate the wonderful things we have, instead of always asking for more. Many occasions are presented throughout lives that are overlooked. I did not truly grasp the concept of live every day to the fullest until I found out what my own grandfather had experienced. My grandfather, whom I call Arnie, is a well respected man who through his struggles, has taught me the importance of living life.

Arnie was raised in Burma, due to my great-grandfather’s job. During that time World War Two had begun; the fast advancing Japanese Army were quickly moving in on Burma. In April 1942, my great grandparents and my grandfather were attempting to escape from Burma to India. Along their escape route they were overtaken by the Japanese Army in Sahmaw. At Sahmaw they were then placed into cattle wagons and returned to their place of residence called Maymyo. Arnie did not know, but from that day on, the next three years of his life would be an absolute living hell.

When they arrived, they saw a large internment camp surrounded by barbed wire and guarded by Japanese soldiers. They were terrified, not knowing if today would be their last day. The men were to be assistants to the soldiers, obeying their every order under the threat of death. The women were ordered to repair Japanese soldier’s uniforms and tend to their every need. My grandfather was only twelve years old at the time, so he was sent with the other young boys to a farm seven miles away to pick weeds. If they were lucky, the food consisted of rice and mixed vegetables. He ate many things he would have refused to eat at home, but for the first time he was eating to survive. The Japanese insisted that by a certain date every internee had to communicate with one another in Japanese and therefore every internee was forced to attend Japanese classes one day a week.

March 10, 1945 was a day that my grandfather will never forget. All the internees knew there was something strange when they saw no guards in the guard house. Finally, after three painstaking years the Japanese had retreated. Upon liberation, the British arranged for food to be dropped in parachutes by Dakota aircraft from the United States Air Force. Flour, corned beef, bread, and chocolate were food they had not seen for years. All of a sudden it was available and it seemed so unreal. The women made dresses and shirts out of the parachutes. They were then distributed to families in the camp who had not been able to get any clothes during internment.

As I listened to the stories I had to hold in the tears, because I could not even imagine what misery this was to him at only twelve years old. Arnie lived his life not knowing if that day was his last. The physical and emotional pain that he had to deal with was unbearable. Any type of tragedy can happen in a matter of hours, minutes, or seconds. Many people are never content with what they have and are always thriving for more. I believe one should be thankful for what they have every day. I am thankful have a wonderful family, a roof over my head, and a nice meal to eat every night. Just imagine how one would act if he or she knew today would be their last day. Would they forgive their enemy? Would they appreciate what they have? Would they call old friends? Would they conquer a fear? I understand that life should be a source of experience to be lived up to, not survived through. I believe each and every single person should live for today, for tomorrow is promised to no-one.