An odd assembly of thoughts
It has long been a repeated argument of the Shido that some must die so that others may live. For generations my ancestors cowered behind the shield of that aphorism, believing themselves, as farmers and pacifists devoted to the work of sustaining life, to be the obvious benefactors of it. We claimed ourselves the sole counter balance to the bloody lives of the shinobi: audacious at best. But our hubris was punished.
I have not forgotten this belief, but I have chosen to be one who walks the path of death. By my strength will my clan be invincible, until at least the day I rest.
I say this not out of pride, but to come at last to two points: First, nothing, however impossible, cannot be accomplished with the proper ingenuity and industry, and with the acceptance of the necessary consequence. Secondly: The value of a peaceful life, secure in health and conscious, is immeasurable. We as Shinobi must never forget who it is we serve, and why. We are not soldiers of the Hokage, nor of the government of Fire Country, but of the people of Konoha. Our duty is to face death so they may pursue life, but we are in no way greater then they.
Among the Shinobi we must reserve a place of special veneration for those who, because of injury, can no longer serve. This condition of high regard is earned only by the supreme sacrifice, and awards the sacrificer be parallel to the most venerable of sages. We must learn from their example, for in them we see both our greatest victory, and most terrible mistake. The inability to preserve one's own life and health constitutes a grave failure in the art of war, but the ability to sacrifice that life for the lives of others is the greatest of human charities. This charity must be returned in kind.