Friday, 1 June 2012

"Why Are You Crying, Mummy?

"Why are you crying, mummy?" asked The Boy.

The Boy has never seen me cry. I've cried with laughter with and at him, and stifled a sob on his curly head during Toy Story 3, but he's never seen me cry. Not properly. But he came into the room while I was reading Martin Fletcher's story in The Times about the massacre of the children of Houla in Syria, The Tipping Point and, of course, I was crying.

I couldn't tell him I was crying in disgust and despair, in horror and, yes, in shame. I couldn't tell my 6 year old son that children like him, younger than him and babes in arms have been, and are being, slaughtered in Syrian villages by people; not aliens, not monsters, not evil super-villains but by PEOPLE who are really, essentially, no different from me and him.

People with arms and legs, ears and eyes. People that eat and sleep, love, laugh, cry and presumably have children of their own. But driven by a collective insanity? a fanaticism? they are committing atrocities in the name of power and politics.

Yes, I am too ashamed to tell my son that this is happening in the same heartbeat in another place, too far away to imagine in his head. I'm too embarrassed to tell him that I'm helpless, that this time mummy can't make it all better. I wish I could.

But if one mummy can't help, maybe a hundred mums or a thousand mums can. Maybe a million mummies, and daddies too, can shout loud enough to be heard and maybe then, together, we can make a difference. That's why I'm joining in with Syria: A Day of Protest at Britmums, for my protest to be heard.

Please sign the Save The Children Stop The Killing petition here


  1. I just can't understand how anyone looks at a baby and slices her open. Thanks for spreading awareness.

  2. A beautiful post full of heartbreaking reality. Thanks for sharing


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