What this little girl could see from her doorstep was a bunch of sweaty probably irritable Americans---and shell casings, torn branches, and debris from the battles. She wasn’t touched by any of it, even though her house had been. It was us she saw, and she saw us as potential friends. The little girl trusted adults to do the right thing. Her parents must be the most amazing people in the world.
[...]
When you think of Iraq, don’t think of terrorists or Saddam Hussein. Think of Rania and her mother’s hospitality, of the American soldiers sweating on her doorstep and sipping tea from little glasses on a ninety-degree day. Muktadi Sadr does not represent Iraq and no matter how many people he kills or attacks, he never will.
(
ginmar on the ground in Iraq) 