Lately I’ve taken to joking that we would be better off if women ruled the world. My point being that there would be very few wars since no mother wants to send her son off to war. In a sense, I am only HALF joking. Maybe I should start a new group: MAW. Mothers Against War. Could we make a difference? MADD has. Hmmm.
Why do the politicians and leaders promise peace from war? This has never happened. Violence breeds more violence, either immediately or eventually. We are all guilty, we have all killed and been killed. Isn’t it time to find another way? Especially now, against this new enemy. Killing this enemy only strengthens it. New martyrs, new heroes to follow. More extremists willing and eager to die for the cause. More hatred for the bully, for the arrogant, rich Goliath shoving his way through the world, taking the best for himself always. We are not well thought of by most of the world. They see us as rich, self-absorbed, lazy, selfish, amoral and cruel. We are despised by many and the numbers grow quickly as the chasm dividing rich and poor grows ever wider.
Why was violence the first response to our tragedy? Was there no other alternative? I heard a story today of a mother’s heart break. Her daughter came home from kindergarten with a question bursting from her lips, “Are they still having that war in Afghanistan?” When the mom replied that she was sorry to tell her that they were, the child’s face crumbled and she cried out, “If people are just going to keep doing that, I wish I’d never been born!” This from a five year old. It took her mother several moments of pointing out the good in her life to show her why she did, in fact, want to be alive. But I imagine Mom’s heart was heavy long after her daughter’s hope was restored.
In the same article, I read a news story that touched my heart. It happened in a small desert village in Iran. A small toddling boy wandered off in a moment of inattention by the nanny. The parents, along with the rest of the village, spent the hours before nightfall searching in increasing panic and fear. The next morning they resumed the search, going farther and farther out until another night fell. Now only the parents could hold on to a shred of hope as they went out the third day, very far out, looking in caves and behind stones. Suddenly, deep within a cave, a miracle – the cry of a baby, the smell of a bear. The child was found alive with the she-bear in her den, alive, unscarred and well fed. The bear had been nursing the baby.
This is a story to hold to the heart, to treasure. A wonder to hold up like an umbrella against the storm of bad news, war, pain, suffering and despair raining down on us daily. Stories like this give hope. Sometimes the impossible happens.