December 27, 2009

Three Weeks, One Day.

He could not have been more than 9 or 10 years old. I saw him once and his face still visits me unexpectedly. At first it appeared like so many pictures that have become a daily part of life in Gaza, until I looked closer. His outstretched arms were the only barrier between him, and the Israeli soldiers assault riffle.

His face masked in sheer terror…and his khaki trousers recently soiled from his own urine. As a mother, my natural instinct was to stand between him and protect him from this devil. But I was on the other side of the world.

My next instinct was also “natural.” I wanted to see that exact fear transferred to the face of the Israeli solider. Never will I understand such an attack. To inflict a sentence of death to thousands of innocent people is beyond comprehension. I know it occurs daily through out this world, and that does not make it easier to comprehend.

Today is the anniversary (strange word in this case) of the attack on the Gaza Strip. Activists from various parts of the world are joining in protest against the atrocities in Gaza.

In twenty two days over 1,400 lives were ended. Of that number 400 were children, and 100 women. I watched along with the rest of the world as the grainy films emerged. At times the audio would fail, but the story spoke in volume. Commotion as family and bystanders helped place the victims into ambulances. Later, they would become causalities.

The end of this massacre left behind broken families, hearts and homes. Alhamdulillah what remained and continues to exist today, is the humanity and hope of the Palestinian people. We in this world have not forgotten you, and I have not forgotten that little boy. May Allah (swt) bring freedom to Gaza Ameen!