A Grieving Husband Penned A Heartfelt Letter To The Paris Attackers.
Last Friday, people around the world were shocked to hear what had happened in Paris: A terrorist attack had left over 120 people dead, most of them shot to death while attending a concert in one of the city's trendiest, most crowded areas.
The days since have been spent trying to make sense of it all, with experts attempting to deduce what exactly happened on Friday night, and more importantly, why. But amidst all of that, the deeper pain is felt by the families of the victims, who now have to put together the shattered pieces of their lives without those who were lost.
One Paris man who lost his wife on Friday night wrote a message to the terrorists responsible for taking her, and his words are quite surprising. In times like these, it would be easy to be consumed by anger and hatred. Instead, he chooses something different.
On Friday night you took the life of an exceptional being, the love of my life, the mother of my child, but you won't have my hatred.
I don't know who you are and I don't want to know; your souls are dead. If this "God" that you blindly kill for truly did make us in his image, every bullet in the body of my wife would have wounded his heart. And so no, I won't give you the gift of my hatred.
You've certainly sought it, but to respond to hatred with anger would be giving in to the same ignorance that made you the way you are. You want me to be afraid, you want me to look suspiciously at my fellow citizens, to give up my freedom for safety. Well you've lost. I will keep going.
I saw her this morning, finally, after days and nights of waiting. She was as beautiful as when she left home on Friday night, as beautiful as the night I fell hopelessly in love with her over 12 years ago.
Of course, I'm devastated by the pain, I'll cede this small victory, but it won't last forever. I know she'll be with us every day, and we'll be with her again in paradise as free souls that you could never touch.
There's two of us, me and my son, but we're stronger than all the world's armies. Actually, I've no more time for you, I've got to go and get Melvil who's waking up from his nap. Just 17 months old, he'll have his snack just like every day, and then we'll play just like every day, and this little boy will insult you with his happy carefree existence.
Because no, you will not have his hatred either.
Source: Antoine Leiris