War is one of those subjects that I would rather just hide in a dark corner so I don't have to think about it. Sure, I've read one book about a child soldier and I've raised money for UNICEF before, but what do I really know about war? I've never seen an army, never fled from violence. Actually, I don't even know anyone that has been affected by war. If ignorance is bliss, I've been dancing around in a snow globe my whole life.
But then how do you respond when you hear that children are being killed by explosives while walking to school in Syria? When hundreds of girls are being raped in Sudan? The truth is I don't know. I lament for the victims of all the violence, and I'm especially sad for the children who did nothing to deserve it, but I just don't know that there's much I can do to help.
However, there is one thing that becomes clear in light of all the horrors we hear on CNN; the fortune of living in a safe place. Cliche as it may sound, no one gets to choose where they are born. So even when Trump tweets something ridiculous and public transportation sucks, I'm going to continue to count my lucky stars that I was born in America.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.