Modern life does not give us the experiences that might enlarge our vision. It hardly occurs to us that the living can have anything to say to the dying, or that the dying have anything to communicate to the living. We think that the dying are beyond our reach as they lie there, unable ot speak or respond in any way, but we are wrong. They can still hear what is said to them, even in what seems like deep unconsciousness; they can still be aware of touch... The dying need us to go as far as we can with them on the journey
CALCUTTA: A beggar, half-conscious, is lying on a mat in a home for the dying. A nun is kneeling by his side, her delicate fingers wiping his forehead with a washcloth. She is a peasant whose eyes shine like the wings of a heron flying around the sun, a silence whose light soars through the darkness.
How can I describe the beggar's eyes as he summons all his strength to motion her to draw close? She obeys.
It takes the beggar a long time to whisper something in her ears: "I have lived . . . like an animal. Now I will die . . . like an angel." The beggar's final words.