Nothing to report

I spent the morning with a woman who has lost seven children.

Two girls died when she got to Lebanon after she fled Palestine in 1948. These were her only children at that point.

One girl was born when she was in Beirut and she also died of sickness.

Four sons  were taken while they were staying at a friend’s house, next to a Palestinian refugee camp, while the Israeli army, led by Ariel Sharon, and the Lebanese Forces, a Lebanese Christian militia, partipated in the massacre of Sabra and Shatila in 1982.

2107 other people were kidnapped in addition to her sons during a four day period.  When asked if anyone returned, she replied ‘none’.

Her youngest son that was kidnapped was just thirteen. I saw his school books.  I looked at his physics homework. He was just a child.

The woman’s husband was blown up.  She found him with his skull in pieces.

She is still waiting for her boys to come home. Hoping.

We sat in her living room, and when she started to cry we put the camera away and cried too.

My Grandpa is cremated this afternoon. A veteran of the second world war, he was a wonderful, brave man.

Tommorow we will go and shake hands with the man who may have been responsible for the kidnapping of the woman’s boys. We will ask him to listen to the tape of the woman and tell her what happened. He will not, even though he wants forgiveness, because he will be killed.

Tell somone you love them, and mean it.

If you can’t, isn’t it time you made a change in your life?