WALLS

 

WALLS

The walls were so ancient that even the graffiti wasprotected. Children ran heedlessly past them to school, housewives climbed thesteps carrying bags of groceries, men walked along with their attention on theirphones.

But Sarah noticed them. Sarah was old enough to have beenthat schoolchild, that housewife, long ago. Now she walked slowly, trailing herarthritic fingers over the old walls, feeling the weight of history, the griefof many thousands who had died for possession of these walls, her menfolk amongthem.

To Sarah each stone shrieked, ‘I am only stone – I am notworth those lives!’

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And still people are fighting over possession of places. Why cannot they live in peace, those who profess to love God? He is the same God, whatever we call Him, however we worship. Ask the mothers whether they think these wars deserve their children to be used as fodder.

Thanks are due to Rochelle for the photograph as well as for hosting Friday Fictioneers this week!