My heart is crying … not just my eyes.
Yes it is stupidly selfish. I didn’t cry for the boys in Hebron or in Ramallah, or in Jenin. They seemed far … I could only sympathize.
But this makes me feel burns in my heart.
It is so close. It could have been my son. It could have been really my son.
I would usually worry about accidents, street fights of young boys. An angry soldier on the checkpoint. Being in the wrong place in the wrong time.
My daughters would be out in the road at this time last year with a group of other boys and girls harassing neighbors with suhour chants. If my daughters were home last night, and they walked out, it could have been them who were found burnt thrown in the forest.
It could have been my son insisting that he stays out with his friends and join the Morning Prayer.
I thought I was prepared for the unexpected . That accidents could happen . That nothing is for granted. It is a life under occupation after all…
But not to abducting children from the roads of their neighborhoods while people watching and murdering them in cold blood and set them on fire.