[Finkevannon]

Two middle east mothers are sitting in a cafe' chatting over a plate of tabouli and a pint
of goat's milk. The older of the mothers pulls a bag out of her purse and starts flipping
through photos (reminiscing) This was my oldest son Mohammed, he would be 24 years old.
"Yes, I remember him as a baby" said the other. He is a martyr now the mother confirmed.
"yea, oh so sad dear" said the other. This my second son Khulayd he would be 21. "Oh, I
remember him, he had such curly hair when he was born" He is a martyr too said the mom
quietly. "oh gracious me" said the other. This my third son, my baby, my beautiful boy, he
would be 18, she whispers. "Yes" said the friend, "I remember when he first started in
school" he's a martyr also said the mom with tears in her eyes.

After a pause and a deep sigh.

The second muslim mother looked wistfully at the photographs and said "they blow up so fast, don't they?"