War

I’m thinking of becoming a Quaker, maybe Amish, though I don’t think I could give up my computer or dh his blackberry. Okay, Quaker it is. Aren’t they pacifists? I want to have a clear history of pacifism long before my son (or for that matter, my daughters) is old enough to be drafted into the army. With a new war or threat every few months, I don’t see how drafts will be avoided in the future.

It’s not that I don’t support our troops, I do. But each and every face I see, killed in action, is a knife to the heart. Each and every man and woman once laid as a babe in the arms of a woman like me, loved intensely, hope filling a heart for the child’s future. Each life ended is the end of those possibilities cut short. I can hardly stand to watch the news, but I look at their faces and try to absorb the meaning of their sacrifice.

I’m having a hard time with these wars and their effectiveness. A email acquaintance living in Israel wrote: “Unless and until we/someone gets rid of the terrorists, or disarms them, then Israelis are not safe in Israel, Lebanese are not safe in Lebanon, and Americans are not safe in America....”

What scares me about this statement is that I feel, deep down, that this will never happen. It would seem that terrorism is here to stay. There will always be terrorists, whether it is a man shooting Jews in America, or terrorists in Lebanon, there will always be extremists. The difference will lie in how the world deals with those terrorists. As long as we deal with them country against country, rather than humans united against terrorists, there will be war.

I can hardly stand to read the paper or look at news magazines. Photojournalists bring to my home the photos of men and women holding their babies, their little boys and girls the same age as my William, heads bandaged, arms bleeding. Anguish fills the faces of the parents. And I think of my William, and the despair I would feel to not be able to protect him from falling bombs. …and the anger I’d feel at the bombers’ country for hurting my innocent child. I go to him and hug him, thankful that for now, he’s safe and wondering what I, just an ordinary mom, can do for those children not safe. And I wonder how to become a Quaker.