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Do words exist to describe the horror of watching a screaming boy die in a hail of bullets? Do words exist to describe the horror of watching a father trying in vain to protect his son, only to watch him die in his arms? What has the strutting general to say today to that father?
Could we blame the father if he were to swear enmity, ’til death, to those who killed his son, or should we instead cheer him: Pick up a stone and throw it at them, and pick another one and throw it again, in the name of your son’s dying tears? Mothers and fathers: What is your answer?
