I have been looking at old movies lately: Mr. Smith goes to Washington, Meet John Doe, Casablanca, It’s a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street…
They are the movies that shaped my morality and my ideals as a child growing up. In each, a good person tries to stand up and do the right thing. The powers that be look overwhelming and have at their disposal all kinds of weapons they can use to destroy both the hero and what he believes in–and for a time they succeed. But in the end, the people rise to the defense of the hero–who often does not see himself as a hero, but only as an ordinary man placed in a peculiar position that he is uncomfortable filling.
Sometimes, like Victor Lazlo in Casablanca, they stand on a world stage where their actions affect millions. Others, like George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life, fight the lonely Battle of Bedford Falls. His actions seemingly affect only the people in his immediate neighborhood–though they may have a broader impact than he knows. And both men are frustrated with who they are: Lazlo thinks he would love Bailey’s life–and Bailey envies Lazlo’s place in the big picture.
The truth is, we need heroes at every level of life. We need our Kris Kringles who make children–and grown adults–believers in the power of love; we need our Mr. Smiths and our John Does to remind us of the power of our ideals and the importance of protecting those ideals from those who see them only as a means to manipulate the common man for their own ends; and we need our Victor Lazlos and George Baileys who are not there for the hour or the week or the month, but are there for the long haul, building a future brick by brick, house by house, and person by person.
And the further truth is that we all have it in us to be heroes–and to be all the different kinds of heroes there are. Jane’s life was heroic by any measure long before she was diagnosed with NET. She worked tirelessly to help people become thinkers and learners and workers in a world that too often tells us to take it easy and leave the thinking and learning and working to others.
People who saw only the end of Jane’s life called her struggle with NET heroic–and it was. But it was no more heroic than the life she led before that diagnosis. She faced both life and death with equal measures of grace under pressure. She faced both with the strength of a George Bailey, the ideals of a John Doe, the courage of a Mr. Smith, and the love of a Kris Kringle.
As we begin this new year I hope we will all be filled with the spirit that was always the heart of who–and what–Jane was–and is. We all need to be the heroes our communities, our nations, and our world need.
