The Red Cross, our last hope, had left us to starve.

Still, I never heard him say that he hated or wanted to hurt or kill someone for all the horrific things that had been happening to him and his family.

The story Grandpa told us helped me realize that people cannot be divided into groups by ethnicity, religion, or any other feature, only into groups of good, bad, and indifferent people.

My mom and dad refused to believe that people who had grown up together in peace and friendship, had gone to the same schools, spoken the same language, and listened to the same music, could overnight be blinded by ethnic hatred and start to brutally kill one another. They simply didn't accept as true that less than two years of a multiparty system and competition for power could poison people's brains so much.

The question shouldn't be what we ought to do, but what we can do.

Sometimes, a war saves people.