The horror in the eyes of a young boy still haunts me. I saw his picture on the front page of a local newspaper earlier this week. Fear was written on every millimetre of his face.
Besides fear, the only other thing in his eyes were tears.
The boy was at the funeral of his parents who were killed during Israeli air raids.
The close-up of this young boy communicated to me the hell that is Gaza more than any other thing I had seen or read before and since then. What horrible nightmares must surely haunt him every night, I ask myself. Isn't childhood about innocence, joy, playing, growing up in a loving environment?
For this boy, childhood is only pain, death, terror, and deprivation. He can neither shout "Papà" nor "Mamà". He can only cry till his eyes are dry. He does not even have enough tears to express his deep grief and sorrow. His poverty is abysmal.
His story is the same as those of other boys and girls in Gaza and elsewhere. The picture would not have been less frightening had it been of an Israeli child mourning the death of his parents killed by rockets fired by the Hamas.
Indeed, it is the children who pay for the sins of their fathers and mothers. This is obscene wherever it happens, but when it happens in the earthly homeland of Jesus, it somehow becomes more obscene.
"The earthly homeland of Jesus, cannot continue to be a witness to such bloodshed, which is repeated without end. I implore the end of this violence, which must be condemned in all its forms, and a restoration of the truce in the Gaza Strip." With these harsh words and more, Pope Benedict XVI deplored the latest escalation of violence in Gaza while addressing pilgrims at his noon blessing at the Vatican last Monday.
Gaza is hell. Hundreds have been killed. Perhaps they were the lucky ones. Hundreds more have been wounded. They lost hands or legs or eyes or other important organs. Besides, they are trapped. They cannot go to Israel, to Egypt or to Jordan, and they can't even leave their homes.
Last Monday, Caritas Jerusalem told Vatican Radio that bombs were continually falling, and that over 1,500 people had been injured and needed medical care, but in Gaza there are only 1,400 hospital beds. The situation is much worse now. The supply of electricity, water and gas is erratic at best. Food is scarce. Medicines are difficult to come by.
But there is some hope even in this hell. Before Christmas, a friend passed me a letter he received from a group of Christians living in Gaza. They recount the horror but point to the hope.
"Aissa cares for her paralysed father. She helps him wash and dress. Before taking him out on his wheelchair she asks him whether she should put some gel on his hair so that he looks younger.
"Yasmine still has the strength to say: 'The Lord asked us to love our enemies.'
"Fatima is 23 years old. She has just had her third child. She shows him around. He is as little as the hope that still gives strength to these people. But he is able to make his mother smile while hugging him."
The hope of Gaza lies in the people of Gaza. Shame on us if we leave them alone.
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Sotto Voce
(Source: TOM)