mardi, avril 29, 2008

Imagining grief

Last night, before I was about to turn off the computer, I read the New York Times front page online. There was a story that had recently come over the wires about a young mom in Gaza. Whether because of Hamas or the Israelis, or, more likely, both she and her four children, all under the age of six, were killed. Her husband, who had two other wives and is a much older man happened to be at the market.

The Israelis blamed Hamas-they blame Hamas for everything that happens, said a spokesman. Hamas put the blame on the Israeli Army. And yesterday, a father buried a six year old, a 15 month old, a 3 and a 4 year old.

Last night my son came into my room after midnight. Bothered by a cough, he snuggled in next to me. "Mom, hug me," he said. And as I lay there awake in the middle of the night, I thought of that mother, and those children. Prayed for them and for their father and husband. And, frankly, hated the men who have no shame about killing innocents. What can they be like, these men of blood? What humanity have they given up?

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