Margaret

Nobody, not even the rain, had such small hands. She looked like a Gothic picture, a skull with big blue eyes. The biggest and most expressive eyes I had ever seen. Her jet-black and curly hair was the sweetest maze that I dreamed to get lost in, and her mouth, full with small and white teeth was always open a little, as waiting for some bread to put into. That was my Margaret...

...And her only sin was to be a Jew.

I can clearly remember the day I first saw her. It was my first time for many things. The first time I saw a Jewish girl, the first time I cried and the first time I heard the word “Nazi”. She had just arrived from Germany in a very big ship, rolled up in a grey blanket. She was very thin and slim. Her hands like white feathers, one, grabbed to an old woman’s coat, the other, holding a blond, almost hoary hair doll.
People welcomed them in a very effusive way and guided them to the town hall where the mayor was waiting for them.
I wondered why somebody could want to kill such a beautiful thing? My grandma held my hand to remind me that it was late and that we were supposed to be at the market. Suddenly, the girl looked at me, and, I do not know why, I wished to get free from nana’s warm contact. “Jewish swine” shouted someone from a balcony .And I woke up.
I realized of what this war was about and I cried. My feet started moving towards her. I put off my old scarf and I put it around her slender neck. She looked at me with her dark blue eyes and I saw so many things inside them...

The soldiers, the “died on active service”, the newspapers, “the aim, ready, fire...”the fire!
The Darkness and cruelty, the gunpowder, the cries of women regretting the act of giving birth. Their lost fathers, husbands and children. Somebody told me we won but we never felt like winners. Which was the prize? What kind of game makes bleed a whole country, a belief, a culture? Margaret, my Margaret died before knowing we won. It was a pity because judging by her face, she seemed to love winning. People called it war, but for me, it was just hatred. A ridiculous hatred that made millions of people depend on the fickle finger of a devilish man desires.

...“let's give the world to the children

at least for one day let the world learn friendship

children will get the world from our hands

they'll plant immortal trees”.

Nazim Hikmet.