Once upon a time, there were children playing in a beautiful playground. There were all sorts of children there: big and small ones, dark-skinned and light-skinned ones, active and silent ones. They spend their time playing games, sharing toys, running about, screaming and laughing all day long. In one corner of the playground, there sat a little boy, playing peacefully and contently by himself. He was building castles and houses out of sand, and then he put people in it, and gave them farms, and gardens to live by. When he was done, he felt pride for his creation that he sat quietly, for a minute, looking and admiring them. He did not complain about of his place in the playground- how little it was, how little shade he got, nor does he care that the houses other children built were bigger than his, or that their toys were better than his- he was content, he was happy, and no one bothered him.

One day, a new boy arrived on the playground. All the other children welcomed him but were not quite sure where to put him. Since he was new, they decided to let him play with the little boy, and the little boy accepted. From then on, he shared his place in the playground with the new boy and, for a time, they both got on quite well. However, as time went on, the new boy started to ignore the little boy and gradually took the little boy's place in the playground. Until one day, the new boy, who was turning out to be a bully, declared the little boy's spot as his own, leaving the little boy with barely a mound of dirt to sit on. Moreover, the new boy completed his takeover by demolishing the little boy's little castles and houses and built his own on top of it. This saddened the little boy, feeling that he was done an injustice, and protested vigorously. But the other children did not hear him, for they were much too busy with their playing to hear or see the little boy's plight.

Tiny as he was in comparison, the little boy's fury swelled in his chest and, in a moment of angry impulse, picked up a pebble and hurled it at the bully. The little missile hit the bully by the head, bounced off, and fell to the ground. The bully did not flinch, but turned around, stared menacingly at the little boy, and bared his arms. Backed into a wall, the little boy could do nothing, except to brace himself, as the bully approached him, and proceeded to rain punches after punches upon the little boy's frail body. The other children looked on at the horrible sight with sympathy for the little boy, but could do nothing. Some, especially the bigger kids, thought the little boy deserved it for throwing stones at the bully; while some thought that the bully's actions were disproportionate and deplorable. Some of the children urged and pleaded with the bully to stop his assault but in vain. All that time, the bully continued to punish the little boy, who laid prostrate on the ground, shielding himself from the unceasing abuse, as no one dared to lift a finger to restrain the bully or step in between them and say 'enough'.

It still remains to be seen whether all the children on that playground would only idly stand by, watch, and let the bully cruelly beat the little boy- until it is too late.

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Please, stop the war in Gaza.