the Faces of War

WARNING: Disturbing images follow

This morning I opened the news to see yet another attack on Israel. A war that seems to have no end. No boundaries that are enough. No lines that can be removed or shared. No negotiation that can be agreed by all parties. Let me make it clear that I don't stand on either side of the line. I stand ON the line. The line where "enough" is drawn.

I am on the side of the innocent victims that get brought into and destroyed by this war without a choice.

These victims.

Before I came to Dubai, I have to admit that I had really not paid close attention to the details of the Palestinian/Israel war. Living in the US means seeing a fairly biased view of the conflict and as I always take the stance of Peace no matter what or whose battle is at play, I did not get involved. I wanted to keep my knowledge at an "ignorance is bliss" level. This meant I would not have to be subject to the opinionated views of one side or the other.

This meant I would never have to see faces like these.

Living here in Dubai means conversations about this war are a part of your everyday life. One Saturday morning, while enjoying breakfast, the breath was knocked out of me when I saw this image in the daily newspaper. I was catapulted into "involvement" by the literal horror of what I saw.

Where war (of any kind and for any reason) is concerned, I will always take a stand of Peace. But not for the sake of who is right or wrong. And not only for the sake of Peace itself (albeit a good enough reason). The stand I take now is for these precious little lives that are literally being destroyed by this war.

I have not chosen "this" war because it means something particularly special to me. I hate them all equally. I love people equally and I would move to protect children equally and unconditionally. These children mean something special to me. I don't know them and I don't need to know them. I don't know what their parents think about the war, what their opinion is and what "side" they are on. It doesn't matter to me. All I need to know is that "this" - these faces - this sacrifice of youth and innocence is wrong on all sides.

These are the faces of War. The ones we don't want to see. The ones that we pretend don't exist. The ones that are too hard to stare into. The ones that we don't want to admit we helped create.

Innocent. Destroyed. Sacrificed faces and lives. Sacrificed for the lines that we, as adults, choose to draw and reinforce. And fight for. This is the cost of our opinions, our egos and our unwillingness to bend.

Today there will be two year olds in surgery hanging on to their barely begun lives because we cannot and will not MAKE A CHOICE to agree. We could even agree to disagree. In Peace. Without bombs and missiles and tanks and guns. With our families, limbs, homes and futures in tact. And maybe even some understanding and perspective.

I have chosen to sponsor some of these innocent lives in their pursuit for some sense of normalcy and health, after what has been stolen from them. It doesn't matter if it wasn't "on purpose". It doesn't matter for what cause/reason/promise this has happened.

Only these little eyes matter. The precious little hands that will never again hold the way that they were designed to - these hands matter. Tiny little legs that no longer exist to carry them on their own missions in life - prosthetic legs now matter. The ones who lost their families and have lingering mental and psychological trauma - those future minds now matter.

If you're interested in helping in any way, I have chosen to sponsor this particular organization, but there are many others like this one that are taking these children (from both sides of the line) and helping to restore what they have lost.

www.pcrf.net

Here are some others...

http://www.warchild.org

http://thechildrenofwar.org

http://www.globalchild.org/

http://www.invisiblechildren.com/

But bigger than this....we can help these children have a future by laying down our internal weapons. The weapons that manifest themselves as tears, pain and struggle on these tiny precious faces.