Peace Is Still A Myth

Asahi looked down when she felt a short pull at the edge of her shirt. There was a little girl around the age of 4 looked up at her with big grey eyes.

"Hello"she greeted the little one getting down. " What's your name?" she asked her.
"Nadia, " replied the girl.
" Ah! Such a sweet one "
" A poor fortune this little one has got. She was away to school when the bombing happened and not a single one of them were alive in that neighborhood said the owner of the orphanage.

Asahi looked into Nadia's eyes and the only thing she remembered was a memory the place of love, care and nourishment. She went to live with her Aunt for a few days and on the morning of 9th August 1945 when it happened she was too little to understand it. Until days later when she visited the place, her land was wiped out completely. There were mere ashes and burning remains of once a place called"home".

"Sitto,Sitto".A gentle touch broke Asahi's reverie. Nadia was calling her by a name and had clasped hersoft little fists into her wrinkled ones.

"She is calling you Grandma,you must remind Nadia of hers" said the owner.
Asahi hugged Nadia and picked her up. "Sitto"called Nadia whole playing with Asahi's grey locks.
"I have found what I was looking for " she told the owner.
Seventy four years it has been. That was Japan 1945 this is Syria 2019.

 Some things have been the same over the years. Hatred, violence, children being the casualties. War has been constant while,

Peace is still a Myth.