Among the day to day monotony of our lives, mini rises and falls, come moments where you truly feel and embrace the miracle that is human life and the preciousness of it.
I stayed up last night like so many others to watch anxiously to see whether the Chilean miners would be rescued. I went to bed disappointed and really worried while final checks on the rescue capsule were made. When I awoke this morning, the first thing I did was turn on the radio to get an update.
My relief at the first of the men being brought to the surface, took me into an unexpected meltdown as I cried with the young boy who was reunited with his father.
I couldn't imagine for a second being forced to survive for sixty-nine days, underground, cut off from my friends and family I would have lost it, even if I had pen and paper write my feelings down on.
In the coming days and weeks there will no doubt be numerous press angles, focusing on the miners individual experiences, fears, challenges and hopes to not only survive but be reunited with their families again.
I really hope their stories focus on the strength of human spirit in adversity, as opposed to the already colourful emerging revelations that at least two of the men had secret mistresses,who have turned up to reclaim their men.
Twenty-four hour news is a wonderful thing, but the need to keep its media content live, so hot that it's a redtop hot exclusive, sometimes means that even the purest of miracles can become tarnished.
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