Let me tell you a story that melted my cold child hating heart
Today at work a little boy came in dressed as Kylo Ren with his family to see Rogue One. The family is going about their business purchasing tickets and concessions, filling their drinks and buttering their popcorn, and I’m just standing in the corner watching this tiny dark side loving little boy. Two of my employees were like “but.. Kylo isn’t even in this movie” and I almost smacked them because who cares. I mean, I’m wearing my BB-8 earrings all weekend so back off. Then it’s finally time for the kid to approach and he whispers something to his dad before handing us the tickets. “Go ahead and tell them,” the dad says. Tiny Kylo: “I’m here to see Darth Vader, my grandpa.” And then I died because that was a level of child cuteness I had never encountered before. I almost cried in front of all my employees, but none of them seemed as moved by this encounter so I held my shit together.
Maybe in ten years from now they’ll make a movie about the world today.
Maybe they’ll make a movie about a father in Syria contemplating whether to kill himself, his wife or his children in a desperate attempt to stop the Regime from getting their hands on them.
Maybe they’ll make a movie about an 8 year old Rohingya boy who was thrown into the fire in front of his mother after his village was set alight.
Maybe they’ll make a movie about a young orphaned girl in C.A.R, crying as she remembers her sexual abuse at the hands of UN “peacekeepers” who do as they please without consequences.
Or maybe they’ll make a movie about a daughter in Gaza who picks up the phone to hear an unfamiliar voice letting her know her family has 60 seconds to run before the bombs drop.
And maybe we’ll see it and shed some tears - but we shouldn’t be crying because of the atrocities that occurred.
We should cry because we watched as these horrors unfolded and in our silence betrayed them.