“Just because of a certain group of people, do the Israelis have to destroy everyone and everything?”

This is what Ali Hakim said, an 80-year old resident of Bint Jbeil, Lebanon.

I have been guilty for a long time for not caring about what’s happening in the world today. Especially in places like South Africa. Or Lebanon. Or Palestine.

Like so many people in the world who live so far away from such atrocities, safe in our homes, content in our lives, I’ve read and watched the news much as I would another program on TV. Detached. Ignoring. Unfazed.

Because really. What can I do? How can little old me make a difference?

That’s just it, isn’t it? That’s how we rationalise away never EVER doing anything.

Sure, I’ll go donate some money, some clothes, some food. And then I can walk away feeling good about myself, that I’ve done my part. I’m entitled to feel better. I am raising children here, you know. Isn’t motherhood the noblest job in the world already?

Leave me alone.

We go to work as though all is right. We raise our children as though there is a future without war or hunger or poverty. We make plans for holidays and self improvement classes and retirement when there are people out there, RIGHT NOW, who won’t even live to see tomorrow.

Who lives like that?

People like her, live like that.

Because my mind will not let my heart believe that this could happen to me. To my children. To those I love.

It very well might.

I’ll deal with it then.