Selmilor. Heroes and “Ordinary People”
Selmilor. Heroes and “Ordinary People”
Since the day humankind accepted the care of Heaven, and angels entered their eternal service, I have watched their lives—earthly and heavenly. I watch when they walk together, and when they turn away from one another. This life is unique, and yet the same.
Angels are eternal in their code of service: they never transgress the laws set for them, they guard the gifts, and they bear responsibility.
But a human being lives only for a single moment, within which they must discover the laws of the world, accept them, and pass them on to those who will follow.
At times, a soul is born unlike the rest. It tears the chains, breaks beyond the borders, bursts into flame in the darkness, steals fire, and rips a burning heart from its chest, giving moments of revelation and warmth. It may scorch for its own purposes, conquer nations, sow pain and fear. Yet it also tears down walls, humbles tyrants, defeats beasts, takes cities, and grants freedom to others. People call such souls Heroes. Songs are sung of them, poems composed, legends and myths woven in their name.
Evil, too, borrows the image of Heroes. In ancient times it said: “Look what has become of the hero—he was cursed by the gods for his disobedience.” In our age it whispers differently: “Look to the Hero. You deserve it, you are worthy. Be among the best, reach for the dream. Life belongs to those who dare, to those who never stop!”
And so, in the souls of ordinary people, a worm of doubt begins to stir:
“Am I not the one who should? Why not me? Is this truly my calling?”
I often descend to them and walk at their side, seeking new meanings. And these meanings are astonishingly simple.
To wake at dawn and watch the stars fade in the brightening sky.
To stand beneath streams of water.
To let warmth dry the skin.
To drink a cup of fragrant tea.
To buy a crusty loaf of bread from the bakery and break it still warm.
To embrace a child or kiss the rough cheek of a traveler weary from the road.
To sit on a rooftop, leaning back to back, counting stars in silence.
To cut grass, prepare good food, craft sturdy furniture, build a reliable home.
Even to put things in order and carry away what is foul—leaving behind harmony and peace.
Evil calls this boredom. A gray routine, without the glitter of fireworks, carnivals, or storefronts. Yet it is in this very ordinariness that most of human life unfolds. And the one who accepts it—who rejoices in a new cupboard, a clean bed, an aromatic coffee, who can smile at loved ones—is the true hero.
Such a one is not afraid to make mistakes. They do much with their own hands. They give joy through simple things, and each day they kindle hearts around them. Yes—each day a person may be happy, without waiting for a holiday or the favor of a benefactor.
People feel this, and they honor the one who is always near—like an angel, yet still a human. And in this lies a strength that can withstand evil. The time will come when the souls of these “ordinary people” will stand in eternal service alongside the guardians. They will bring new knowledge and experience, strengthening the faith and the power of Heaven.
And Heroes?
Heroes will remain in legends and tales.
For God loves them all.
Angels are eternal in their code of service: they never transgress the laws set for them, they guard the gifts, and they bear responsibility.
But a human being lives only for a single moment, within which they must discover the laws of the world, accept them, and pass them on to those who will follow.
At times, a soul is born unlike the rest. It tears the chains, breaks beyond the borders, bursts into flame in the darkness, steals fire, and rips a burning heart from its chest, giving moments of revelation and warmth. It may scorch for its own purposes, conquer nations, sow pain and fear. Yet it also tears down walls, humbles tyrants, defeats beasts, takes cities, and grants freedom to others. People call such souls Heroes. Songs are sung of them, poems composed, legends and myths woven in their name.
Evil, too, borrows the image of Heroes. In ancient times it said: “Look what has become of the hero—he was cursed by the gods for his disobedience.” In our age it whispers differently: “Look to the Hero. You deserve it, you are worthy. Be among the best, reach for the dream. Life belongs to those who dare, to those who never stop!”
And so, in the souls of ordinary people, a worm of doubt begins to stir:
“Am I not the one who should? Why not me? Is this truly my calling?”
I often descend to them and walk at their side, seeking new meanings. And these meanings are astonishingly simple.
To wake at dawn and watch the stars fade in the brightening sky.
To stand beneath streams of water.
To let warmth dry the skin.
To drink a cup of fragrant tea.
To buy a crusty loaf of bread from the bakery and break it still warm.
To embrace a child or kiss the rough cheek of a traveler weary from the road.
To sit on a rooftop, leaning back to back, counting stars in silence.
To cut grass, prepare good food, craft sturdy furniture, build a reliable home.
Even to put things in order and carry away what is foul—leaving behind harmony and peace.
Evil calls this boredom. A gray routine, without the glitter of fireworks, carnivals, or storefronts. Yet it is in this very ordinariness that most of human life unfolds. And the one who accepts it—who rejoices in a new cupboard, a clean bed, an aromatic coffee, who can smile at loved ones—is the true hero.
Such a one is not afraid to make mistakes. They do much with their own hands. They give joy through simple things, and each day they kindle hearts around them. Yes—each day a person may be happy, without waiting for a holiday or the favor of a benefactor.
People feel this, and they honor the one who is always near—like an angel, yet still a human. And in this lies a strength that can withstand evil. The time will come when the souls of these “ordinary people” will stand in eternal service alongside the guardians. They will bring new knowledge and experience, strengthening the faith and the power of Heaven.
And Heroes?
Heroes will remain in legends and tales.
For God loves them all.