Two images have hit me in the eye in the last two days. Two fathers. Two sons. One newborn. One older, but still a boy. In both pictures the fathers are head-down as they cradle their sons in their arms - one dad is full of happy pride, the other weeps with grief. The newborn is the already famous Prince George. The other boy's name is unknown to us, his life already over, just another victim of the hideous fight between factions in Syria. The prince in London is clean, warm, pampered, rosy, loved. The boy in Syria is bloodied, cold, limp, lifeless - and loved. How is that we humans, all sharing the one blue planet, have developed a civilization in which both of these images can be flooding the news in the same 24 hours? How come the pain on the right can co-exist with the contentment on the left? What would an outside intelligence, viewing our planet, make of these two pictures? I know that, today, they tug at my heart. And that if there's to be any good future for our world, the enormous void between these two scenarios - between happiness and hate - must somehow be bridged.
Hi, I'm Lindsey Dawson.