“What is your story? How can I help you?”
I looked into her eyes and asked
“No one heard me cry when I was born”
She said looking back at me
“I was born amidst the sound of Gunshots
And people were running for cover”
I looked at her not knowing what to say
And she continued because I had asked her story
“Today after twenty years I too give birth
Amidst flying bullets
from more sophisticated guns.”
I looked if her eyes had tears in them
But I could see none and she went on
“Before I could stop sucking my thumb
they gave me a gun to hold
asked me to suck the life out of many”
She paused and looked at her baby
Lying next to her in a sound sleep
“I was made to fight before I know why
Born to war I was and killed in war I will be”
She again looked at her baby girl
slowly moving her hand over her head
kissing her forehead for a long moment
I saw a drop of tear trickle down now
falling onto the baby’s face
She looked at me again
“My baby was born to war
I can’t change it now
But she will not die to a war”
She held my hand and asked
in a voice that
I have only heard come from mothers
“That is my story mister
Tell me how can you help….?”