Tonight my big decisions are what to write about, if I want yet another sample of newly made rice pudding, and what time I'm going to bed. I need to make sure I brush my teeth, take my meds, and then snuggle into my collection of pillows and comforters that function as more of a nest than a bed.
While I go about the mundane, paltry functions of my life at the end of this day, there are people dying in Syria. Babies bloodied and bruised are being pulled out of rubble, alive only to now be orphans, in too many cases the only survivors of their families. Our news brings us these stories. It seems we are all helpless, too; helpless to relieve the agony that is now their country.
"For what?" the Syrians must be asking themselves.
"Why? We want nothing but to live our lives?" They must be asking why nobody rescues them. Where is the world while they suffer?
"Where can we hide? How will we live?" They must be wondering every minute that bombs drop. Yet, I am foolish and naive to even suggest that they have time to think. Their lives have to be one panicked moment after another.
Some news story today seemed to say that our Secretary of State John Kerry has walked out of the talks with the Russians. How could he continue since Russians are helping the Syrians bomb their own people of Aleppo?
The old people of Syria who somehow manage to survive these atrocities will die before too many years pass, taking their memories with them. The young, children now, will grow up in this political mire of warfare for a dictator to retain power. Too many of them, I fear, will grow up hating others for all that has been lost. This warfare will beget the warfare of the future.
And so new conflict will result. Where is the world's condemnation of this horror?
Lucky people like myself, ponder which pillows to use, how much rice pudding to have, and go off to sleep safely. These quiet blessings should be shared by everyone around the world.