Behind the fire lines
Are nothing but prayers that cover her fears
But it can’t prevent her tears from falling and drawing hundreds of questions
With the painful one: where is he now?
She knows God is always there for all the people who are fighting for their right
To get their freedom back..
But things get complicated and the image is foggy when blood covers the land
All she hears is people screaming and hearts deeply bleeding
Behind the fire line he’s standing there
Who knows what’s going on?
There, is it a safe place? Or is he not okay?
Thoughts are the big enemy too when they takes us to imagine an anonymous bloody place
Where people went asking for peace and suddenly haters cut them into pieces on the streets
She’s fighting the evil thoughts by praying and trusting God that He will take care of him…
She sleeps every night wishing to see him in her dreams
A dream can heal for once even if reality will slap her on the face
When she wakes up
But at least it will stop the tears for a while ..
Behind the fire lines her heart is burning there trying to search for his face
And her soul is aching while waiting for his return …
She was there holding his hand begging him to stay
He was forced to leave her, how he wished to be there for another day. But he was comforting her by saying, “Anytime you need me, I’ll be there.”
“How is that?” she thought. He handed her a necklace with the name of the Lord engraved on it. “This will protect you and keep you from any harm”; she held it close to her heart.
She cried silently; her tears were burning every little breath she was taking.
Duty was calling him to serve his country, his steps were getting far while her heart was breaking apart.
Days passed by and months were like decades waiting for any news from him.
They said the war is near and never seeing his face was the only thing she feared.
She looked at her one year old child and holding him tight.
She said, “Please Lord, protect the father of my child and the man of my life. Keep him safe and bring him back home alive.
” Days passed by and the only seat she sat on was her husband’s, spending time on the balcony waiting for him to come.
One day she heard a knock on the door, and was hoping that her hero had come back home.
She opened the door and a soldier was standing there…She realized she became The mighty soldier’s widow.
She was frozen in place and didn’t dare say a word.
The man said, “Sorry ma’am for your loss, your husband was a brave soldier.” before he continued talking, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.
The world stopped for hours and a deep silence filled the place; she opened her eyes to see all the family surrounding her.
Some were crying, others were in shock but she was the only one who was dying.
Mighty soldiers leave their places to serve their country, leaving behind a wife and kids who are waiting them to come back home. What do we know about their feelings when they leave to the military?
Their kids’ and wife’s photos are their ID’s to find their feelings. Their fears that their children’s eyes will be seen for the last time, their heart aches silently leaving their wives, the love of their life, and never have the chance to feel it again.
Lucky are those who come back to their families even though the sad images from wars are stuck in their minds. But what about those who never come back, leaving everything behind them? Sacrificing their happiness, and all the happy moments they will spend with their children to protect their country and fight for their rights that the enemies want to take from them.
They are fighters with mighty hearts who believe in God, who are ready to give their own life to save hundreds. These are people who are ready to sacrifice their own happiness with their families in return giving a chance for thousands of men to have happiness with their own loved ones.
Just by thinking of a woman standing by her window waiting for her man to come back home after the war, and getting nothing but a dead body without a soul…
Just by thinking of her place: how the emptiness filled it even though her kids are playing around…
Just by thinking of her packing his clothes, his favorite CDs, by recalling his last words, smiling for the good memories and crying more for the bad ones….
Just by thinking of her speechless when her kids ask her, “When will dad come back home?”… It tears my heart apart to think of any woman who lost her husband in a war, how long she would stand her loss, and her longing to see him again…
They are mighty soldiers, those who swore to protect their country and be loyal to their promise…
I believe that the moment they take their last breath, a new angel enters heaven after serving his time on earth beneath…
Hello everyone, just wanted to announce the release of my first book ” Let Them Go With A Smile”. It’s on AuthorHouse.com & here’s the link:
He was born like many other children, filled with love and innocent. He had caring parents as he recalls, they use to hold him and protect him in his first years. They taught him how to walk and how to talk. They used to run towards him and wipe his tears when he fell, just like any other parents would do for their child. He’s the youngest in the family, his brother was 12 years old, and his sister was almost 10 when he born. He used to wait for them, for when they come back to the place where they all sheltered under the bridge, to play with him. Usually they left that place early in the morning while he was still sleeping, and often they came back late after he was asleep. His mom was so special, she was the only person who was always around, his dad used to disappear, sometimes for weeks. As a little baby, all that mattered to him was to play, eat and sleep. He was too small to know what’s going on with his family. Newly arrived to life, he didn’t know yet that there is lot to go through, didn’t know that his life will be a battle, that he’s just one new fighter in this family he was born into. He didn’t know yet the name of the place he lives, he used to think it’s home, but his family name it hell… That became clear after he turned 6 years old.
It was a sunny day when his mom told him to put on his dirty torn clothes and be ready for a long walk. “A long walk where?” the boy asked, “…but mom I want to stay here and play”. With a strict look, his dad ordered him to obey his mom. The boy kept silent and bowed his head. His clothes were dirty as usual, you wouldn’t know it had different colors. His face were dirty as well, he didn’t have a mirror to know how he looked. Maybe if he did he would know why people ignored him in the streets, why they looked at him in a disgusted way. He loves to leave what he calls home, to enjoy the sunshine, because where he lives the rays of the sun can’t find their way. Their place was not a healthy one. That’s the reason why the family was often sick.
While he was walking with his mom he wondered where she was taking him, she never said. All she said was “from this day you will start to work just like your sister and brother, you are a little man now”. They arrived at a very crowded place, where families went with their kids and relatives, where friends meet up together, and everyone looked happy. His mom stopped and bent towards him, she looked deeply and seriously into his eyes and said “I will leave you here, I will come back later to get you”. The little boy was scared and asked his mom “but where are you going, and why you are leaving me here?” She replied “See those people, you have to stay with them, go and try to get money, food, or anything you can get”. “But mom…” he cried. His mom shook him in a strict way and said “LISTEN TO ME, this is how we get money, this is what your brother and sister do, everyone has a job and this is yours now too”. He looked at his mom, tears filling his eyes; his lips spelled one word …ok. He stood there, watching his mom walk away.
All he saw were strangers, people who ignored him, or who looked at him in pity, who pushed him to get away from them. Happy children were everywhere, he saw them playing with their parents, laughing and giggling. He wondered why their parents didn’t leave them alone in this place like his mom did. The time passed, and by noon, he felt so hungry and wanted something to eat. He couldn’t go and just ask people to give him money, or even to give him something to eat. He was so scared and lost. He went to the garbage, started to eat the old bread. A cat made him start from fear when she jumped out from the garbage. He was crying and didn’t know what to do. He ate a little, only what he could find in the garbage, it was better than nothing. He walked around, trying to ask people to give him money. The first woman he saw sitting with her kids, he came near to her and said “give me money please or something to eat”. The woman yelled at him, protective of her own two kids. “I’m not going to hurt them, I’m just a kid like them” he mumbled. But she kept on yelling, telling him to stay away.
The first day ended, the sun disappeared and his mom never reappeared. He sat on the street, some of those who passed by him gave him money without him asking them. He waited so long for his mom, but she never came to take him back home. He didn’t know how to get there by himself. The dogs were barking, the cats fighting in the middle of the night, the people passing grew fewer until there were no more people on the street. Only him and some other homeless people. He cried and tried to find a box to sleep in, he was very tired and wanted to sleep. All the lights were switched off, all the other kids his age were home asleep. He covered himself with bags and slept on the side of the road, where else he could go? He thought about his mom, why didn’t she come back he kept thinking until he fell asleep.
The next day, the steps of people passing by woke him, at first he didn’t’ recognize where he was… until he recalled the day before. He felt the fear again, the insecurity of the coming days. He thought about his mom and his family. He missed his brother and sister, where are they now? Would he ever see them again? He went to a nearby shop to buy something to eat, thankful for the people who dropped money for him while he lay on the street. He entered the shop and the man screamed “get out you dirty boy”. He ran from fear and tripped and fell. He cried from pain, from fear, from anything that might come near him. A soft hand touched his shoulder, and asked him to stand up. He looked up and saw a very nice lady with a little boy. She said “Come, let me help you up, how old are you?” He looked at her son, he was about his age, “I’m 6 years old” he said. She asked, “Are you hungry?” He started crying, “yes I am”. “I saw the man screaming at you, wait for me here and I’ll bring you something to eat”. She went to the shop and bought some food and candy. “Can I have them all?” he asked, the lady smiled and said, “sure, it’s all yours. Are you new here?” “Yes” he replied. The woman told him that she had to leave, but she promised to check back on him every day and bring him something to eat.
He felt that God was looking over him, and each day he waited for the woman, but he never forgot about his family, especially his mom. Her face kept coming to his imagination, telling him that he’s a man now. With days the small kid grew, with years he knew his reality. He wonders now about the person he once called mom, who used to be his whole world, the person who held him and protected him, is she the same person who threw him away? Too many questions, but no one to give him answers or erase his fears. He knows the place where he lives under the bridge isn’t a home, and why the people call him homeless. He can’t go to school, he knows nothing but begging and the people who give him money so he can eat. He looks around seeing happy kids playing with their friends, riding their bicycles, getting into fancy cars with their parents, and asks; why am I different from them? It wasn’t his choice to be homeless, it wasn’t that he wanted to sleep on the streets. Or to hide in boxes, fearful that the dogs might bite him. He always wishes some day he will wake up and his life will be changed. But every morning he wakes to the sound of people’s steps hurrying by, or screaming for the Taxi. What hurts him the most though is to overhear conversations, mothers on the phone saying she’ll be home soon. Home, a word that fills his heart with sorrow. He waited for his mom for long years, and he still goes to the place where she left him. Still wishes she would come to take him to where they all live, anywhere, as long as they were all together, with his brother and sister. He has some friends who are also homeless, they have their own stories too. Sometimes they all go to a shelter to eat and sleep. Other times he forgets himself, waiting on his own till late in the evening, and falls asleep waiting there…
Whenever you see a homeless person, give them a helping hand, give them food or clothes, or even a place to live. Some of them were born homeless, growing up in fear, watching people kick them, yell at them, and look at them in a disgusted way. It’s not their fault. We are blessed to have a home to live in. We have our own rooms, our own cars, money to buy whatever we want. Do we sometimes cry and feel life is unfair if our parents disagree and refuse to buy something for us? So what about those whose life has said NO to them for everything since they were born? Never pass by the homeless without a thought for their fate, spare a smile and some kindness. You will never know what their life has been, what they are waiting for that will never come…
She sits in silence her tears pouring down, her hands shivering and dancing to the rhythm of her heart beat. It’s a glimpse into what surrounds her, a past that turns her world around. Calling out names of people who have faded away, nothing in her ears except the echo shaking her cold body. Nothing in her eyes but tears, she’s a woman in black living moments of fear…
What covered her soul with sadness? What made her wings too weak to fly as high as she had dreamed? She had been an angel with a pure heart, no wounds caused by lies, not afraid to walk in the sunshine, wise and full of life. Now she’s an aching heart, dancing in the dark with broken wings. When she falls and another wound appears on her body, she’s content with her bleeding skin. But there are other wounds that are hidden inside of her heart.
She heads to her closet to pick a colorful dress, maybe it can help her to take a step to happiness, she hope so anyway. If she could change the colour she wears, picking her favorite dress with a broken smile, she thinks she might change her dark mood for a colorful one. But standing in front of her mirror, what she sees is herself wearing black again, how come she wondered looking down, it’s a colorful dress, but a glimpse into the mirror and it’s black again… It’s the reflection of her aching soul in the mirror, that can’t allow her to be happy, won’t allow her to fool herself by covering her body with a colorful dress. She’s not smart enough to fool her soul, it’s not about her body, it’s about what lies within. When skin is wounded it bleeds, but then it heals. Maybe there will be a scar as a reminder of the wound, maybe not. But when her soul is wounded, it is a hurt without bleeding or screaming, and she is lost in a body that doesn’t know what to do. A wounded prisoner in a sad body, that can’t give up, yet can’t escape. That is the blackness in the woman’s soul…
She would break her mirror to destroy the truth she’s denying…. The truth that hurts, the truth that would always be there… Leaving her room the pieces of her mirror cover the floor, they seem to her like shards of her aching soul…. Please Lord give me strength she screams silently, asking for the power to feel strong enough, to stand up on her own again. She has faith to ask God for help, to look up in prayer when everything else would turn her down. When none of those passing can give their hands to help her up, only God is willing to do that.
She knows that all those who came her way may be good people, but still they turned, to become a pain in her life, turned now into illusion. The love she gave taken for granted, the friends she trusted have left her alone with doubt, and those who passed away have left her with a dead heart and a soul in pain, turning her days into black. So many questions she asks herself. Asking why? Such an easy and short word, but the answer is so complicated and hard. Walking slowly with breaking steps, she’s too young to feel old this way. She’s full of life, so why is she’s dying silently everyday? What makes her switch on the light in the middle of the day, when the sun is shining and warm? She lives in the light but sees nothing but darkness, she has her own world no one else can enter, to be there to share her pain. All she sees is darkness, opening her eyes or closing them, it’s all the same. Who should she blame that the light has left her life? Who would take her hand and walk slowly with her, who can show her the way. Who would be brave enough, kind enough, to make her feel safe? She tries through her faith to light her way, she asks for God’s help in all the ways she knows. She has none beside her except God and her faith.
She’s a young woman who was surrounded by big numbers of friends, but started to lose them one by one until she ended up alone. She has memories that she keeps of things she can’t feel or see any more. The breeze touching her face, the flowers and the trees playing in breeze, the giggling of kids and their innocent faces. Recalling them makes her feel a little alive, but all that she hears is a killing silence that she fears. She can feel the happiness of other women with their children and their men when they are pass her by, but yet she can’t dare to wish to have a family and kids too. It’s spring time and the sun is shining outside, she touches her lips making sure she’s smiling, heads to her closet to try to figure out which colorful dress to wear, picking her blue dress, she never looks at her mirror. Standing on her balcony she tries to be strong, a passing neighbor tells her she looks good today, she smiles, forgets herself and goes to see herself in the mirror, all she sees is black. Her soulful eyes fill with tears, ruining her make up, she breaks down on the floor, and breaks another mirror, it’s not her mirrors fault.
Darkness is covering her life. There is only her faith left now to light up her way. She searches again and again through her faith to re-find her security and joy. She’s a blind woman fighting every day to find her way back to happiness. In the past she was a happy girl full of life. They all see her as the girl in the ever-changing colourful dresses, she has her own world. In her sight everything has changed, she has forgotten the sensation of being happy, she accepts the bitter fact, she’s a woman in black.
“Please stop”. How many people have shouted these words? And how many others scream it silently on the inside? When a person forgets that the one they hurt is a human too, the violence can cross the limits and can so easily end in death. How many families are facing this issue? I prefer to name it “disease” or “addiction”, when the human mind stops working, stops thinking, then the path is open to violence in their thoughts. When their brain stops working, from holding them back from beating their victim, they forget who is this person they are looking at, if it’s their mother, their child, their sister or even their wife. They become addicted to beating others. It may take away all their anger and the stress for them, but puts it all on the wrong person. It’s a disease indeed, it is spread all over the world, and destroys families and lives.
How many women are beaten to death, but no one knows about them? They might have screamed and begged for mercy, and their children might have seen and witnessed what happened to their mother, but what can a child do? As much as it affects the mother, it will also affect the kids. Will they be violent with their friends or their own families when they grow up? Or does the inner injurious they have suffered make them live in fear? Afraid they cannot protect themselves, will they always consider anyone a danger to their life, because the closest person to them has caused so much damage. Will they always have the fear to die by violence. When I think about those who are violent to others, firstly I believe they don’t know God, because if they do they would fear to hurt his creatures. They are hurting someone of flesh and blood, and the bruises they leave on faces and bodies, the bleeding marks, the fear in the eyes, the insecurity they dig into a soul, and the fearful sleepless nights, they become this wild person who might sneak into the room and hit them if they dared to dream and do not stay awake in fear.
Those who cause all this unbearable pain to others don’t know God, or fear him. It is the devil’s work in their soul when their mind stops working, when they stop from thinking wisely and become wild. They have nothing to be grateful for, because if they did they would find peace of mind. We always think, what if we are in their shoes, and we don’t know what they are going through to act like that, but I can’t even imagine being in their shoes. The reason it is so hard to know what they are thinking is simply because they are not thinking. Only imagining a child’s eyes begging someone to stop beating them… It makes me wish if I can do anything to stop this violence that is spread all over the world. Violence has many faces, it’s not only physical, there is also verbal aggression as well, that kind of violence can injure more than physical harm. The words they use to oppress and control is so harsh and ruthless, it could push someone to suicide. Words could harm more than a bullet sometimes. It plays with people’s mind, leaves them thinking they are nothing, or that they did something bad that they never did. Making others feel guilt for something they never did, can cause the problem to spread. Playing on their distress might make them lose their mind, may drive them to act in a very wrong way. If they might act in a wrong way with others, then they who are the victim are changed into the criminal without ever thinking about what they are doing.
Many reasons can change people and drive them to be hard to deal with; they lose control of their life, or circumstances force them to face difficulties that show up out of nowhere. Lately there are economic problems that affect the whole world and leave thousands homeless. Many others are left without work, this issue can create more violence. Some have killed their families because they don’t want them to live in poverty, they have just lost hope, and faith of course too. Because if they had faith they would pray to God help them, but in their situation, the shock they have received, their brain stops working and they took their own life. Others may become more violent and start to steal to feed their families, they don’t want to, but they have no choice, this kind of people are not dangerous like others, they became violent in a sudden way, under specific conditions, but with time they will be addicted to it.
Also, the people making dangerous weapons and the countries that make deals with each other to gain money; but the price they gain is different from the price that the victim will pay. Thousands of children’s souls, thousands of families torn apart, thousands of victims still alive but having lost their hands or legs, those who will pay the price are not those who sell the weapons. This kind of violence is the most dangerous, because the one who is violent is a whole country. This violence never looks in the child’s eyes begging for it to stop, or asking him about his parents who died in the war. To sell weapons and gain money, the more money gained means the more victims will have died without having the chance to know who was behind this. But the one behind this is a person who never knew God, his job is to kill and gain, he’s not concerned about the blood that‘s spreading everywhere, his concern is only to win the game.
Violence has so many faces, it runs at all levels, high and low. We might find a cure to those who are violent to their families or their friends, but when it comes to those who create wars and kill people without mercy we find ourselves paralyzed. We can’t do anything but pray that God will light their minds and make them realize that we all are human also, like them…
Whatever the kind of violence that people are facing, the victim is always a person, not a thing. A person that has feelings, a person from flesh and blood. When you hit someone or beat them, the tears they cry and the words they say to make you stop, and yet you continue beating them without thinking, then the devil’s spirit increases in your soul and mind. Why can you not stop and think about why they scream, why you feel you want to beat them, why you say words to harm them deeply and leave a painful trace that no one can ever erase. Look at their eyes, the tears they are crying, try to feel their pain and hear the words they are trying to say every time they raise their hands to cover their face to protect themselves. There is always words they scream – but you never hear.
“Please stop. I’m a human just like you!”
For every person on this earth, there is an angel who exists to protect him/her from everything, to guide them to the right direction when they lose their way, and light their days with love and joy when they feel the shadow of sadness trying to haunt them. It’s true that God has sent us angels to stay in our life to look after us from the moment we open our eyes in this world; those two angels are our parents. From the time we start talking the first two words, their names are the first to verbalize, mom and dad. Ever since we march our very first steps we have their hand to grab on to, to help us stand after every fall. Through the nights, our mother’s lap is the bed we sleep in, and her shoulder is the pillow that makes us feel safe. Her eyes never blink when ours are crying and her tender hand keeps on touching our face to make us feel secure. From time to time our dad takes her place to take care of us. We are born on this earth but god never leaves us alone; he sent us his angels to make sure we’ll be safe.
For every word we say, they make of it a story and tell their friends and family members about what their little babies said. For every move we make they spread laughter in the place, sometimes they pretend they didn’t see what we did or what we said; so they ask us to do it again and again to enjoy the moment. We start to be their world that they can’t imagine to live without, all the sacrifices they make, all the suffering they go through to have us in their life, they forget it all in one minute when we look at them and they say something lovely. All the way from our childhood to our youth, they are the angels that protect us by watching us day and night, even when we are young enough, they can’t help but check our room to make sure we are covered enough. They worry about us, sometimes this worrying bothers us, and sometimes we miss feeling that we are that much loved by feeling their worry. Fighting, screaming, and losing their temper but they keep on praying for us no matter what we do or how mad they are. The room for forgiveness and tenderness never leaves their heart. They yell at us when we are babies but they kiss us on the cheek when we are asleep. Those are the angels God has sent to us, they are our mother and father.
But, during our journey in this life some kids change from being good to bad. This happens due to many circumstances they have been through since they were kids. Maybe poverty that let the kids grow up in anger watching whole years of other children having all the stuff they dream about, but they can’t have even one meal to stop their hunger through the day. They grow up thinking about those who have a normal life as people who they should take revenge on. Other kids grow up blaming their parents for not taking care of them enough, by being busy all the time. They come back home but no one is there. Maybe their parents are divorced, maybe both their parents are working hard to provide for them a good life. They live lacking the care and missing their mother opening the door for them and prepare their food instead of doing that by themselves or the maid as a replacement to their mom’s turn. This is one of the reason that let the kids grow up blaming their parents for not being there when they need them, they forget that even when their parents are not home it’s a big sacrifice from them to afford a good life to their kids. It’s no longer a choice, sometimes it’s a must they have to work hard rather than watching their children’s lacking for specific things.
And, when parents get old losing the power to take care of themselves, they need our help to drink and to get fed. They start to fear walking alone, and they need to afford our help to walk with them. They start to forget things and feel that it is hard to deal with other things. They need our presence beside them to explain for them about stuffs; maybe it’s the same stuff they helped us to understand when we were little kids. They return back to babies, who feel insecure, and don’t have any idea what’s going on around them. Aging might cause problems with their health, like with hearing, their eyes and their memory. They have no control on their behavior, and their sensitivity increases. We might see them crying because of one word that has been said to them; a normal word for us might have been painful and wounded once for them. By this time, our time comes to take care of the two angles who held us since we opened our eyes to this world, not only by being the devils that makes them feel as if they are living in hell, but by appreciating all the things they have done for us. Some people send their parents to a place where they take care of old people. They leave them there for months and years never asking if they are doing fine. They think deep inside that they are doing their duty. Is this a duty? To put your mother or father with strangers to take care of them? To sleep at night thinking about your own happiness and never thinking that there are two people who were checking your room while you were sleeping as a baby, every 2 minutes to make sure you are fine when you were sick? Now you left them in that place, where they feel insecure and scared; hoping that you knock on their room’s door asking if they are fine instead of these strangers who are getting paid by you to take care of them. They served you since you opened your eyes with happiness; they always say we are blessed by having these children in our house. So why would their presence at this age be a curse in your life?
You pay for strangers to take care of your parents when they get old, because you don’t have the time and the patience to sit with them and talk with them, while they gave you all the time when you were a little baby. You used to ask them about the strange things you don’t get, and they spent hours and hours explaining to you what that means. And now when they aged, they ask you something and you don’t bother to look in their eyes and explain for them. You reply while you keep reading a book or busy working on something. If they ask you for the second time, you get mad and yell at them; you lose your temper in minutes while they used to repeat the same thing to you for hours and smile in every time they explain it again. This is not the good way to treat our parents when they age. They were the angels who protected us and were there for us our whole life; they show us happiness even though they were crying silently just to let us feel secure. They sell their favorite things even if it was sad to do that, but it was to buy other things that make us smile. They lie to us thousands of times when they say they are fine, but later on we know they are not. They were there to hold us when we feel lonely, to support us when we feel weak. To wipe our tears when we cry and tap us on our shoulders saying we’ll be fine. It’s unfair to treat them in the way that big numbers of people do, and the number is increasing , this is really disturbing. If we never appreciate what our parents did for us, how do we expect our own children to treat us later on? I’m sure that God would let them treat us the same way we treated our own parents. Why should we keep the photos where your mother is holding your hand to help you walk while you will push her hand when she asks you to help her for a little walk? Why should you let your children watch a video while your father is teaching you how to spell the words, by saying it so many times and his eyes shining in every time you say it right, when you will yell at him by asking him to ask someone else about specific thing he want to know? Why keep the photos, if you don’t want to learn from them how to appreciate those who spent their lives thinking they are blessed to have you in their life?
Some people treat their parents in a perfect and respected way when they get old, others might not have a good relationship with their mother or father but when they get older they always stay there to help them, because they know no matter what they did to him, he/she should be beside them those kind of people who truly appreciate the meaning of parents in their lives. But for those who treat their mother/father in a bad way, they should always have a glimpse to their life since the moment they opened their eyes. Think about them as human being first then as your parents , you might be good to strangers but at the same time your parents are in a place praying to see your face even once a week. Your duty is not to send them to a place to provide for their needs, your duty is to appreciate all the things they did for you, and be by their sides all the time. How many times did you wake up at night screaming for your mom, and the moment she holds you, you feel safe? How many times were you with your father in a crowded place, and when he disappeared for one minute you got scared between those strangers, and the moment he came back, you ran to him and held him so tight as if you will never let him go? What would you think now while your parents are waking up in the night, crying silently, scared from all things that they are going through in life; scared from the place you put them in, feeling pain from your treatment? And in every time they get sick and think that the shadow of death is getting near, they wish that you are beside them taking care of them, and when the door opens, a stranger asking them if they need anything, how painful is it that it’s not you who runs towards them and gives them a hug?Remember that feeling when you were scared till death when you were lost between strangers? What would you feel if you were in the dark and strangers knock on your door instead of your daughter/son?
People say that angels exist but we can’t see them. They say that to every single person there are angels who always surround them and protect them from any pain, but we can’t see them. But the truth is that the moment we open our eyes we see our angels, holding us, protecting us, worrying about us, feeling sad for our sadness and doing their best to provide us with happiness. They are our two angels who deserve all the respect and love from us; they keep their wings around us to protect us, so when those wings are broken and fall down, we should hold them by our two hands tightly, and never let it go until either when our hands break down or if they die and leave this world.
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وطنيون نعم، ولكن… فاسدون أيضاً، هذه حقيقة معظم حكام لبنان. فسرقة المواطن لم تعد من أولوياتهم فقد حصلوا ويحصلون على أموال الشعب، ولكن الآن أتى ما هو اعظم وسيترحّم المواطن اللبناني على سرقة أمواله، سيترحّم المواطن اللبناني غلى الوعود الزائفة التي اعتاد أن يسمعها من المسؤولين سيترحم المواطن اللبناني على كل ذلك لأن الكارثة أصبحت تطال الامن الاجتماعي والصحي على حدٍ سواء..
أدوية فاسدة مستوردة من باكستان، تليها باخرة قمح فاسدة مليئة بالحشرات مستوردة من أوكرانيا. والسؤال:” تم توقيف الباخرتين ولكن كم من باخرة مرّت مرور الكرام ودخلت الأراضي اللبنانيّة؟ أستطيع أن أجيب عن هذا السؤال وسأقول:” بقدرما يملك معظم المسؤولين والحكام ضمير ومسؤولية وصدق اتجاه هذا الشعب.” مما يعني لقد مرّ على مرّ السنين مئات لا بل ألآلاف البضائع الفاسدة ولم يُحرّك أحداً ساكناً….
131صندوقاً من الأدوية المزورّة يحاولون تمريرها الى الأراضي اللبنانيّة، لكي تدخل الصيدليات وتزيد المريض علّة وألم ، أين ضمائركم أيها الفاسدون…؟ ألا ترون ما يمرّ به المواطن اللبناني من أزمات مالية وبأية طريقة يحصل فيها على المال؟ فمقابل تأمين دواء واحد لاحد أفراد عائلته لا يستطيع تأمين غداء لهم بالمقابل، فكيف اذا ما كان الدواء مزوّر وكل آمال المريض معلًقة على هذا الدواء ليخفف من آلامه . بأي حق تتحول حياة المواطن الى صفقة، وبأي حق بدل أن تسهروا على راحته تنامون انتم وحياته مهددة بسببكم…
بعد الباخرة المحمّلة بالأدوية تلتها باخرةالقمح التي كان من المقررتمريرها كبضاعة صالحة ولكن بعد الكشف عليها وفضح ما تحويه حاولوا تمريرها على أنها بضاعة للعلف، ومجددأ أعود لأسأل” كم من سفينة كانت تحمل القمح الفاسد ودخلت دون أن يعلم بأمرها أحد على مر السنوات الماضية؟ وأعود لاُجيب عن هذا السؤال:” بقدر ما نصب على المواطنون بعض الحكام وبعدد المرات التي باعوا فيها كرامتهم لاذلال شعبهم….
الفساد… بيع الكرامات… السرقة… التزوير…تجارة المخدرات…وأكثر، كل هذا يزداد يوماً بعد يوم، والسبب هو المسؤولون عن هذا الوطن، الفساد يزداد يوماً بعد يوم والسبب الاستهتار بالأمن الاجتماعي والصحي، الاستهتار بشعب بأكمله …. ألوم معظم المسؤولين وليس جميعهم، فالبعض وطنيون يسهرون على الوطن وعلى أمنه ويحاولون جاهدين حماية المواطنين، ولكن في مكان ما يقفون في الوسط حائرين والسبب عندما يتواجدون على طاولة واحدة مع مسؤولون وطنيون أيضاً ولكن … فاسدون!
They are humans just like you, but they think in a different way. They could hate you for very simple reasons, they could say lies, they could be very harmful but at the same time very friendly, they can be disguised to fool you, and you can be fooled if you don’t think that they are human but not angels… Just like you..
Human beings.. We are all humans, no angels living on the earth unless the others, the very good humans who love you unconditionally, the tender hearts who make sure to protect you when someone hurts you… The caring people who cry for your sadness and smile for your happiness, those who forgive you before you make mistakes and who forget themselves for your own sake.. those are the angels on earth…
But here’s the question to ask:” Why are the others always the ones who cause pain to others? There is always one side against the other side, is it how life goes on? Must there be one who is loved and others who hate ? Must there be one who smiles and others who cry? Is this is the way life goes on?
It’s always there… The others who don’t care for others.. who never appreciate them because they have their own reasons, not because they are bad humans…
Life might have treated them so bad and they never found the others standing next to them to help them get over their pain , their suffering….
Life might have been so cruel with them, they might have met the wrong people on their path… They might have shed tears in their lonely nights and never found the one shoulder to cry on….
The others are human but they are not bad, even though they hurt you in someway… Even though they say words that offend you , there must be deep deep pain in their hearts…. When others treat you badly without any reason , you should think what’s behind this treatment, you should think what the others have been through, who they met on their Path, who made them lose their faith in others….
Life could be so cruel to others, and sometimes could be unfair…Just forgive them when they stand in your way trying to destroy you.. Just forgive them if they try to fight you with all the different ways…. They are humans just like you , you have faith in yourself and in God too, but the others might have lost their way and lost their faith in God and that’s why they do their best to harm you…
I always think about peace in my country, about getting over the blood and the bombs that killed hundreds of people, I say what if we live at last in peace… But I realized…It’s just a thought, only a thought…
I always think, about how this world is a mess, I think about poor people who live in poverty and suffer from illnesses. I wish some people could help them instead of spreading the violence in their countries. I wish some countries could give them the cure instead of spreading the disease… But I realized… it’s just a thought, only a thought…
I always think, about the scientists who discover new inventions every day, to ease other people’s daily lives, but the more they are creating easier and faster inventions, the more the lives of other people are rushing and loosing the sense of humanity… it’s as if they are in a very tiny village, but away from each other like earth and space…I wish if people could still have some of their traditions, and have control on their behavior, But I realized….It’s just a thought, only a thought….
I think about people who lives in the 1st world are as if they are in the 3rd world, and vice versa. I just hope they stop saying 1st world, 2nd and 3rd world, because the whole world is a combination of these three worlds… The poverty that is existing in the 3rd world is the same and sometimes worse in some countries in the 1st world….I wish if they just look at people from all the countries as human beings without looking at their background or from where they are coming, because it‘s not about the country, it’s about the human being…But I realized..It’s just a thought, only a thought….
I always think…What if some day, we switch on the TV, without watching a funeral of a martyr, without watching the mothers passing out.
In Iraq, soldiers are getting killed of all nationalities: US, Canadian, British, and many others. Their families are living the grief; they leave their own countries to die in other countries. Arabian soldiers, also die. They all die in the same countries, for the same reason, fighting terrorism… I wish if we could know who the real terrorist is. Maybe I know, but I wish, if they know… And I realized… it’s just a thought… only a thought
I think, but I guess I will stop thinking. I will start to pray, that someday, all these thoughts become facts, so that we can reduce the pain in this world, so that people get a chance to live in peace, and those who trade human organs, get some respect from humanity… I will stop thinking; I will start to pray that someday my wishes become true and not just stays as …Only a thought…
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