What are good parts of our civilization? First and fore-most there are
order and safety. If today I have a quarrel with another man, I do not get
beaten merely because I am physically weaker and he can knock me down. I go to
law and the law will decide as fairly as it can between the two of us. Thus in
disputes between man and man. Right has taken the place might. More-over, the
law protects me from robbery and violence. Nobody may came and break into my
house, steal my books or run off with my children. Of course, there are
burglars, but they are very rare and the law punishes them whenever it catches
them.
It is difficult for us to realize how much this safety means. Without
safety those higher activates of mankind which make up civilization could not
go on. The inventor could not invent, the scientist find out or the artist make
beautiful things. Hence, order and safety, although they are not themselves
civilization, are things without which civilization could be impossible. They
are as necessary to our civilization as the air we breathe is to us; and we
have grown so used to them that we do not notice them any more than we notice
the air.
An artist can create beautiful things only if:
When her grandmother’s health began to deteriorate in the
fall of 1994, Mary would make the drive from Washington, DC to Winchester every
few days.
She hated highway driving, finding it ugly and monotonous. She
preferred to take meandering back roads to her grandmother’s hospital. When she
drove through the rocky town of Harpers Ferry, the beauty of the rough waters
churning at the intersection of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers always
captivated her.
Toward the end of her journey, Mary had to get on highway
81. It was here that she discovered a surprising bit of beauty during one of
her trips. Along the median of the highway, there was a long stretch of
wildflowers. They were thin and delicate and purple, and swayed in the wind as
if whispering poems to each other.
The first time she saw the flowers, Mary was seized by an uncontrollable
urge to pull over on the highway and yank a bunch from the soil. She carried
them into her grandmother’s room when she arrived at the hospital and placed
them in a water pitcher by her bed. For a moment her grandmother seemed more
lucid than usual. She thanked Mary for the flowers, commented on their beauty
and asked where she had gotten them. Mary was overjoyed by the ability of the
flowers to wake something up inside her ailing grandmother.
Afterwards, Mary began carrying scissors in the car during
her trips to visit her grandmother. She would quickly glide onto the shoulder,
jump out of the car, and clip a bunch of flowers. Each time Mary placed the
flowers in the pitcher, her grandmother’s eyes would light up and they would
have a splendid conversation.
One morning in late October, Mary got a call that her
grandmother had taken a turn for the worse. Mary was in such a hurry to get to
her grandmother that she sped past her flower spot. She decided to turn around
head several miles back, and cut a bunch. Mary arrived at the hospital to find her
grandmother very weak and unresponsive. She placed flowers in the pitcher and
sat down. She felt a squeeze on her fingers. It was the last conversation they
had.
As used in the middle of the story, which is the best antonym for ‘lucid’?
