Today, watching the news. A report about children deaths in Gaza. A family lost 4 children while playing on the beach. Another family lost 3 children while playing on the roof of their house.
Could this be a nightmare?
And then there was that image.
People huddled around a hospital bed on which another child was receiving medical treatment, or perhaps was being announced dead. By the bedside stood a man holding a little girl, couldn’t be more than 2 or 3 years old, her face was smeared with blood, dotted with wounds. Her expression drooped with cluelessness. Her head swayed back and forth, her eyes were closing as if she couldn’t stay awake any longer. Was it pain or was it exhaustion? Or was she too exhausted from the pain?
Cut to the next scene. More dead children.
Perhaps she went to sleep. Perhaps she didn’t.