A True Story

I was adopted. Personally, I'm of Irish and American Indian decent. But the wonderful lady who became my mother was first generation Lebanese. When I was growing up, I'd listen to stories of all the relatives, when they came over, how they prospered, etc. One story that has always stuck in my mind, and heart, was WHY her family came to America. You see, being a Christian in Lebanon has never been safe. Her family lived in a village/town with a name I can't even begin to spell. It starts with an M though. When her mother was a teenager, some Muslims decided they didn't want those infidels (Christians) living in their area, so they decided to do some slaughtering. As luck would have it, they didn't succeed in wiping out all the Christians, and my grandmother was put on a boat to the "Land of the Free". She was only about 16 at the time, and it was a big country. As things went back then, she already had some family living in the states, so she wasn't completely alone. Oddly enough, the man she would eventually marry was from that same region and had the same thing happen to a good chunk of his family. Now, why do I share this story??? Well, I've been reading over the last few years how WE are the cause of all the terrorists attacks. It's our arrogance that has gotten us into this war. We must bring our troops home, use diplomacy. HOGWASH! My grandmother was born in 1878, LONG before George W. Bush was a gleam in his daddy's eye! Or even his granddaddy's for that matter. In 1974, I met a cousin that was over here visiting. We went to a great Lebanese restaurant in Dallas (Jamil's) and after dinner, he told us about a young lady, Christian naturally, who was brutally attacked by radical Islmists. First, she was raped and beaten. If this wasn't bad enough, the lunatics then sliced her breasts and put dynamite in the cuts and lit it. Ok, now someone tell me again that those people are peaceful!