I remember the first time I read Anne Frank and the first time I saw the little girl in the red coat in Schindler’s list. I remember thinking why? Why hadn’t someone stopped it? How could people stand by and watch? Why? Why? Why?
But that was then, and this is now.
I felt this despair again last week, watching Syria. I wanted everyone to stop too.
Stop going on and on about the Jubilee, the Olympics, tea parties and cupcakes.
This time it was far worse. It was happening now. It had happened.
Devastation. Children. And politics.
Talk of international relations and policies, but what about the children?
My five year old was watching too. Should I shun him from this? Spoil his innocence?
But what about their innocence? I can’t explain this to him because I don’t want to.
I’m not angry. I’m sad.
To think about it is all-consuming, so should I ignore it? It feels like everyone else is.
Being on the opposing side of the fence is exhausting,
but it’s as wrong today as it was yesterday and more than sixty years ago.
Felicity Fox ©