My Safe Child 我那安全的孩子.docVIP

I am thirty-three years old, and I am so happy that I am not a mother. I do not hear a biological clock ticking, only the nerve wrecking ticks of bombs yet to explode. My friends are leaping whenever their cell phones ring. Where are you? No, you can’t go out. No, I don’t care if all the other children are going. How na?ve children are when they tell lies. What mother in Israel now would believe that all the children are going anywhere? And where are the children going? Where will their fears take them? In many places in the world children are afraid of the unknown, of the unreal. You know