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You're a young Liberian mother holding your newborn son. He cuddles in the warmth of your arms; snuggling deeper as he settles into a peaceful dream state. You look at his five little toes and fingers, such a perfect little boy. You can't help but grin from ear to ear as you look at him with love and adoration. You wonder what he will look like as a little boy, a teenager, and then as an adult. Your hopes and dreams for him are many and you tell him softly that you will never leave him, that you will make sure he is always safe. You promise him the world! He wiggles in your arms still slumbering. It almost seems as if he understands your promises as he lies sleeping making those suckling noises babies make in their sleep. He is safe in your arms and you vow that he will grow up to be a fine young man; a man who will make you proud. You fall asleep ignoring the fact that you live in an area of Liberia that is poverty-stricken and you push back the fears that your promises may fall short of their intended purposes.

Now, it is 8 years later and your eyes have been opened to the terrors of the war. Your son is being ripped from your protective arms by rebels who need to build their armed forces. Although you have raised him to be a happy young boy, even in this poverty-stricken war torn area, you realize that he is going to be forced to do and see many things that an eight year old child should never see. You scream and hold onto him as tightly as you can not wanting to ever let go, but it is too late. He is taken away screaming and crying and the rebels begin beating him as they take him away. The largest of the rebels yanks on the boys arms and yells at the boy to grow up, be a man and stop crying, but this experience is nothing like the boy has ever had to face in his eight years of life and he screams louder for his mother.

The rebel spins the boy around and points the gun at you, his mother. He tells the boy to shut up or his mother will die and the rebel shoots the gun barely missing his mother. The boy stops crying and struggling with the rebel. He doesn't understand what is going on or why these bad men are taking him away, but he does understand that he must go along quietly or get his mother killed. The thought of seeing his mother murdered was too much to bear. You realize as you watch your son being carried away that this very moment may be the last time you see your son alive and you cry. You cry for the innocence that your son will lose as

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