The main reason I supported the overthrow of Saddam was his systematic killing of children. He’d bus them out into the desert with their mothers, have them either stand on the edge of the pre-dug mass graves, and executed; or worse, have them stand down in the trenches, and then have the dirt bulldozed over the top of them. In one grave they found 98 children who had been buried alive on Saddam’s orders - saves on bullets. Any genocidal monster capable of that act deserves to die - and his people liberated. The sadistic rulers in Burma are holding the country hostage while starving millions to death to preserve their power. I say - as bad as it is to have a child die - it is worse to have them starve to death in front of your eyes, while you stand helplessly by. If I were president, I would find a way to make these rulers pay - to the point that they caved into the demands of the civilized world.

Beautiful poems. Thank you for sharing. The agony in China is unimaginable but at least China is reaching out to its people to offer help and reaching out for international aid in order to improve expedite its recovery and support system. Hope is alive in China. Myanmar, is a tragedy compounded hourly by a lunatic regime. Hope cries out in Myanmar.

Sheila, you moved my heart.

I think this post was meant for this section, but was posted on Whoopi’s tax conversation. So I have copied it and pasted it to this section. Linda Myers - 5/22/2008 2:35 PM This is a piece that I wrote when my daughter lost her baby. Linda www.myspiritualwindows.info A few days ago, was the third anniversary of my mother leaving this world. And thinking about the course of events in my own life over the last few years, I could better see the perfection that she chose also.Almost five years ago, my youngest daughter lost a baby in April. One of those strange times that a fetus just does not attach to the walls like it should.On Mother’s day that year we had a celebration for my daughter, planted a little Magnolia tree in the front yard.By the time we got it in the ground, it looked more like a Charlie Brown Tree. So small, and brittle. During the summer it did not do much, but it survived. When fall came it was still small and not showing signs of growth.In early November, we had a snowfall. The ground was covered in white. On the day the baby would have been born, I looked out the window, and on this little twig of a lifeless looking tree, six huge Magnolia blossoms were standing out there in the snow.The following March, my youngest daughter got pregnant again. This time everything was normal, but that spring, the little Magnolia tree died.As if it’s spirit had moved on. My granddaughter was due on Jan. 7, of the next year. On that morning, my mother went into cardiac arrest; she was revived and lived a few more days, and the baby still waited to come.On the night of Jan. 13, during my mother’s visitation Jayden entered the world. She carries her great-grandmother’s eyes, and personality.But all the steps leading up to that little girl’s birth, became very synchronistic in hind sight. And that is how I choose to live life, with synchronicity and staying aware to the world as it unfolds.Never a dull moment in doing so. No fear, just faith that those that are to come into my life will choose to do so, and those that a time has come to journey elsewhere in the walk, will also do so. And for that, I just love life.When Jayden was born, I planted a Weeping Willow tree to replace the little Magnolia tree. The little Weeping Willow is now growing into a very large beautiful tree. Jayden’s tree.

Beautiful, beautiful poem. I can’t imagine the pain of parents who have lost a child. I know I cry…every time… when these losses come into my awareness. The thought of losing one of my children has a way of making just about everything else seem inconsequential.

“But death is unspeakable heat”, a living virus that the parents can never become immune to, a low grade fever that steals their energy and isolates them, turns people away…other mommies and daddies have not the words that would be a balm to the parents’ feverish loneliness. and the possibilities of catching that virus require distance, shielded eyes..rapid steps, distance from smoldering embers, the consuming energy of the lost child smoldering in the human heart. Thank you for sharing this poem, Sheila. It makes my heart hurt. Peace and grace

A beautiful poem. Moving. Only one thing worse, that is for the child to loose it’s parents. Because it also looses it’s childhood. As far as China goes, one has to remember that it still has many human wright troubles. More then cuba, yet after China forced down our government plane and kidnapped our American military people, we gave in and started giving them our secrets and money. We are quick to give aid to countries who want to kill American’s, but slow to give to American’s. One only has to remember New Orleans. Mabby it is because of the lace of American’s in America?

what about a child that’s aborted in the second or third trimester - would your sentiments be the same? honestly, i’m curious as to what makes people tick. stephen curtis chapman lost an adopted child today in a tragic accident involving his natural son backing up over the little girl - is it really any different? the loss of ANY child is grievous.

My brother died at thirty from acute myoblastic leukemia. It was the end of innocence in my close extended family. My mother walked in a daze for about five years and then healed herself slowly. She volunteered at the cancer research hospital that had given him such loving care,and the Red Cross for providing the special blood materials he needed. Then in her eighties, when she was nearing the end of her life, I saw a miracle. She only thought of him with joy and took great pleasure in her memories. By the time she died, at ninety-four, she had truly made peace. What a lesson for me.

My heart goes out to the parents of the children who are up in heaven. I do not understand your true pain. I just know you will be with them and they will forever be in your hearts. I am sorry all this sadness has to happen my tears I offer wishing to hold you tight and let the pain go away. God Bless to you all and hold on tight. God will help you trust me I know this.

Dear Sheila, Thank you so much for your poem written in grief for your dear friend. I do hope she will find with her family and friends the strength to continue “to breathe” and, with God’s help, someday she may laugh again and know that she is alive. But, I fear she will not be able to do that until she accepts that giving up her life will not return her child. How many parents would gladly make that exchange? I have been one of the lucky ones to not have lost a child. I wrote here earlier about my parents who lost their firstborn and were unable to reveal her existence to their later born children until those children were grown.. It is one way to survive. My Mom did not live in grief but she did not allow any casual discussions or childish inquisitiveness to intrude upon grief that is neither casual nor easily understood by the young. In China, I understand that much of the new construction did not include steel re-bar in the concrete pours. In an earthquake those buildings will collapse as if made of adobe. I am sure the Chinese will rebuild and use the safety codes of Japan or America. I would hope so. As for the parents who have lost a child, there are no words….. none at all.

For Annie, 1942-1957 Her little dresses Left arm pinned shut Still on their hangers Holding the ghosts Of those last days When she wore them Waiting Knowing Asking “Mom, are people so nice to me Because they know I’m going to die?” Her younger cousin Shyly picking up Her little gold locket Then handing it back. “Auntie Dode, I don’t think I could wear it. Not really, I just don’t think I could.” Trying hard not to be angry At this child still standing here, tanned in the sun Eating strawberries While she is gone Gone Gone Gone.