The sniper was there with a single mission--to kill as many people walking through the intersection as he could. He didn't care if his victims were young, old, members of the militia or unarmed, breadwinners, mothers, etc. You get the idea.
I know this first hand because when the sniper was an active duty, school was usually closed and I was restless. I would wake up early and head to the store, which was my refuge. I took great pride in the clean floors, neatly stocked shelves, satisfied customers, perfectly rotated inventory and the slowly growing totals in the cash drawer. Yes, it was MY place and no one could take that away from me--not the sniper across the way or anyone else.
Someone who's never lived through a war may think we were brave and we probably were. Opening a grocery store every morning under those conditions was no picnic. Surviving the few times sniper bullets hit inches above the keyhole is pretty neat to live through and tell about. We were quite good and savvy at doing whatever it took to survive. We also never gave up--constantly replacing every shattered window and always believing better days were ahead.
Looking back, if I were in my parents' shoes, I cannot say with confidence that I would have been as brave, tenacious or hopeful. They kept us alive--and relatively happy—in the face of great odds, and for that, my siblings and I are forever grateful. I'm particularly grateful for being here today with the freedom to write this blog, which has become my way of dancing in that Beirut intersection without fear of the sniper’s bullets.
I will have so much to say about my fabulous place and my amazing parents in the coming months, but what prompted me to write this post is a recent online video of brave Syrian protestors struggling under sniper fire. It dawned on me that the good Syrian people aren’t ducking the sniper bullets. They are dancing in their streets with amazing courage and tenacity. With each day, they are earning their place in the history books, and no amount of oppression can take that away from them. I pray they keep the faith that better days are ahead.
Godspeed my brothers and sisters!