Just on small story... but we caused this..

from Iraq Today

We Never Promised You a Flower Garden

My mum – a sweet old lady pushing eighty - was a Schoolmistress (Principal) for almost thirty years, the last fifteen of which were in the secondary school that is located just behind were I live now, and about ten minutes walk from my parents' house. She retired in1985 because only Baathists remained to serve that high honor. When she received the newly renovated school it was quite empty, and its grounds brown soil. She worked so hard, marshalling the efforts of the newly appointed teachers, and charming the parents of the students into the most unexpected donations of labor until the school became quite a sight, especially the grounds. The girls themselves participated by bringing plants for the gardens and saplings that each planted herself and watered herself all the year through. They were so proud of their school that when it was time to leave and move on to college, three years later, they cried both for their success and for their heavy hearts at leaving their beloved school. When she retired she left her heart behind inside the walls she so lovingly had decorated with ferns and arabesques; and she always preferred to take the rout that passes in front of the school and would sometimes drop in to say "hello" to whomsoever had remained there from that time.

Ever since the war she has not left the house except once every two months to receive her pension from the bank close by, because she is terrified of going out into our war zone. But she asks me every now and again, "Sahar, did you pass by the school?", " Sahar, do the girls look clean and tidy?", "Sahar, do drop by and see if the plants are well taken care of, will you?", , , , And I would always answer, "Yes, mum", "Sure, mum", "They're soooooooooo beautiful, mum" , , , but would avert my face lest she see my expression. I couldn't tell her that the school was converted into a recruiting post for the Police, especially chosen for its safe location between the houses of innocent people, and that it was targeted several times, so that now it and the adjoining houses look a real mess. I couldn't tell her that the adjoining kindergarten with it's beautiful playground was converted into a centre for investigating car bombs, and that not a single plant remained alive on the grounds, apart from the hardy cacti and date palms, and that no sound of laughter was to be heard there any more.