An Observation of Innocence

As I stood at gate 69, a girl with beautiful brown complexioned skin and curly hair in a pink shirt and blue shorts playing with her stuffed bear came with at least one of her parents, possibly a sister, or a grandmother.

She was the most precious child I had ever seen since my own little sister was about her age. Precious to the point that my stomach ached and heart grew heavy for the challenges and the difficulties she would face in a brutal world where all the ones who cared for her can do is stand by watch as I do now.

Where lied the beauty in that girl? It lay in her innocence.

In a world where humanity's pain and suffering exist to a point where we no longer appreciate it - where a genocide rages in country as the world worries about black runs through the