The children are safe. A week ago a flickering video had depicted frail, wraithlike figures, some sitting cross legged, some on their haunches, little angels with everything but fear playing on their faces.
Where did they get the courage to endure, to dispassionately go about carving a nook in the cave wall so they could huddle and stay warm?
Really, what a story! What a deliriously happy ending!
Sacrifice, chivalry, teamwork – look what can be achieved when these are in abundance!
An Australian on vacation there, who just happened to be not only an expert cave diver but also a selfless doctor who was among the first to go in and join the kids and the last to exit the cave. The Australians want to award him their highest civilian award ‘Australian of the year’.
A navy seal who had retired but arrived, to help because wanting to make a difference still burned inside him. He died a horrible death, his lungs devoid of oxygen.
A coach who wouldn’t eat because he wanted his charges to have what little rations were left and refused to be evacuated until the last child had been removed from that ledge in the cave.
For a brief instant in time, it seems as if an increasingly impotent, dying God has desperately flailed his arms about, trying to convince us that there is still some goodness left in the world, that the ability to inspire still lives within us all.
His last-ditch effort does afford God some credit. After all, who else do we have to thank for holding the rains at bay while the heroes scrambled to save? Didn’t one of the pumps collapse minutes after the last kid had been brought out? Didn’t the World Cup finals wait so the kids could join in?