From Whence Did I Become Sad?

The blogger of Tell Me a Secret recently wrote about an experience he had in the new and democratic Iraq. Khalid may not have the best command of the English language, but he has more than enough to recount the events of a few days with decent accuracy -- at least enough to warrant a worthy tale. I read it and at some point in the middle found myself succumbing to a feeling of misery. By the time I finished, I was nearly in tears.

Now I'm not the sort that reads sad tales and weeps, and chick flicks usually don't get me boo-hooing. I'm a man, dammit. Grrr.

The sadness, however, was something I hadn't felt before. It was empathy. The anguish was less for poor Khalid and the unfortunate innocents in that Iraqi jail, but more for what it triggered in my mind. It was a revelation, or even better, an acknowledgement of the disconnect between the rosy picture of Iraq and the truth.

Out there, people are telling us all about the pain and misery of war. Over here, we're not listening.