A moment of silence for the children whose lives were not nearly long enough, nor filled with love and peace. The ones whose first looks at the world were clouded by curtains instead of sunshine, pain instead of joy, and knowledge instead of innocence. We take for granted the warm and loving childhood that most of us had.

How many of us can say that we’ve seen the spoils of war peeking out from their mothers arms? How many of us can say that we’ve craved nutrition of any kind while sitting on a cold, dirty street corner? How many of us can say that we’ve listened to the anguished cries and screams of the dying?

A moment of silence for the mothers and fathers who tried their hardest to give their children a life without fear and danger and uncertainty, but this cruel world help up a hand, shook its head, and would not allow it. The ones who asked for so little and sacrificed so much for their own. We take for granted the luxury that most of us have of coming home to our safe, healthy children. 

How many of us can say that we’ve held our child’s hand as we tell them that soon they won’t have any family left? How many of us can say that we’ve worked tirelessly throughout the day but still return home to sad eyes and grumbling stomachs? How many of us can say that we’ve watched our children suffer terribly while being powerless to save them?

A moment of silence for the brothers and sisters who, as children, were not permitted to be children. The ones who traded classrooms for jobs and friends for family to support their siblings because the parents wouldn’t. We take for granted the stability and care that most of us have received from our guardians.

How many of us can say that we’ve held our younger siblings tight to our chests, calming their sobs and telling them not to be afraid, while our own cheeks are wet with silent tears? How many of us can say that we’ve become parental figures before we’ve become teenagers? How many of us can say that even though we’ve never known the love of a mother or the strength of a father, we’ve become them anyways?

A moment of silence for the families who have been torn apart by war, by disaster, by men. The ones with holes in their hearts where people are supposed to be, and where they will never be again in this lifetime. We take for granted the peace of knowing our loved ones surround us.

How many of us can say that we’ve lost someone we love due to the greed, violence, or evil of others? How many of us can say that we’ve seen more deaths in our childhood than most people see in their entire lives? How many of us can say that we’ve seen death after death, and soon it began to feel like ending our life was a better option than suffering through it?

A moment of silence for all who have lost, and all who have yet to lose.