 Martyrs
Two Muslim mothers are comparing notes.
The older of the Muslim mothers pulls out her bag and
starts flipping through family photos and reminiscing.
“This is my oldest son, Mohamed. He would have been
24 now.”
The other Mom replies, “I remember him as a baby.”
The first mother says, “He’s a martyr now.”
“Oh, that’s so sad, my dear.”
Then the first mother flips to another picture. “And
this is my second son, Abdul. He would have been 21.”
“Oh I remember him. He had such curly hair when he
was born.”
The first mother sighs, “He’s also a martyr.”
”Oh gracious me!” says the second mother.
“And this is my third son. My beautiful
Ahmed! He would have been 18 this year.”
“Yes,” says her friend enthusiastically, ”I remember
when he first started school.”
“He’s also a martyr,” the first mother says. She sobs.
Her eyes now fill with tears.
After a pause and a deep sigh, the second Muslim
mother looks wistfully at the photos, gently lays her hand
on the first woman's shoulder and says:
"They blow up so fast, don’t they
__________________
Dan C.
2005 XL1200C
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Love my 10 Grandkids | 
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