I felt content. It was a cold winter day and I was walking home from my friend’s house. I could see my breath in the air but my cozy, wool jacket was keeping me warm. I could hear the crunching of the snow under my feet and I could see the long trail of footprints I was leaving behind me. It was so peaceful and quiet. I had nothing to worry about in that very moment. Perfect moments like those only last a few minutes, and this one was no exception. My phone wouldn’t. stop. buzzing. I rolled my eyes and gave into the temptation. Checking my notifications, I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Another church shooting in Egypt. This time, some of my relatives were on the list of people that were killed. I was right in front of my house, but I couldn’t walk in. I couldn’t. I wanted to freeze outside and be trapped in my own little ice cube forever. The shock and sadness I felt quickly turned into rage. Who do these terrorists think they are? All the good in the world is gone. Why would anyone in their right minds murder people just because they don’t agree with their beliefs?

I furiously opened the door and stomped into my house. The first thing my eyes met was my 7 year old sister. Her eyes were puffy and her lip was quivering. She knew. The sadness her eyes held, my realization that she was robbed of her innocence in that very moment, I wouldn’t forget it. Neither of us spoke or moved. We stood there like statues just staring at each other. After what felt like ages, she broke the silence by asking me why I was angry. Wasn’t that obvious? I blinked a few times and explained to my seven year old sister why someone killing my relatives and my people for no good reason made me angry. She just smiled. Why is she smiling at a time like this? I stood there waiting for her to say something. After a few seconds, I heard her tiny, soft voice say,“Maybe if you love them, they’ll learn to love you back.” What? It took me a while to comprehend what she just said. Oh. I smiled.

She was right. My seven year old sister reminded me of what I believed in. She reminded me of one of my favorite verses in the Bible, “If a man says he loves God, but hates his brother, he is a liar” (1 John 4:20). This has been something I’ve held onto since that day. Three more bombings have happened since then and I’ve never once had a heart full of anger. Now, I just feel bad for the persecutors and I pray for them. “Forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). All because of an innocent, loving, seven year old girl. I grabbed her hand and decided to go on a walk with her. Our feet fell on the freshly fallen snow, past the footprint trail I had left earlier, and I felt content.