Candlelight Vigil From a Friend

I heard of the riot in Libya late on tuesday, earlier this week. A group of Libyans, rioted over an offensive movie made in the American Soil, which led to the death of four Americans, including one Ambassador - and a passionate one, at that. The story is filled with sadness and anger on multiple sides, but that is not why I am writing about it. Wednesday, 12/9/12, a certain Ohioan group held a candlelight vigil for the souls of those lost in the riot; they are the Libyan Americans of Ohio. Nearly twenty of them stood near the Wexner center fot the arts, next by the High street, holding candles and signs and flowers - passing letters to passerby. The letters were filled with condemnation of the attack, and perhaps, more importantly, How the Libyans felt towards one of the lost souls, Ambassador Christopher Stevens. Many of the attendees that I talked to were disqusted by the attack, one remarked that it was non-Islamic. All of them, however, were praying for the souls of the lost, and the families they left behind. For Ambassador Stevens, "He will be missed dearly," the letter said.

This is not a story about how brave Ambassador Stevens was, nor on the actual riot and the ensuing politics - much have been written on that, and I know that I am not qualified enough to talk on the subject. This, however, is a story about compassion, sanity and friendship. One of the signs held in the vigil was "USA, thank you for all you've done." Not all Libyans raised their pichforks to attack the embassy on that day, some, if not majority of them, condemned the attack, and speak for sanity, friendship, and thankfulness. Let there be no mistakes, it was not the work of religion, nor culture, nor countries; it was the work of people with their clouded minds. Never forget, that for every hand that was raised to attack that day, there exist many others that hold hands alongside the victims; especially among Libyans. This is a story on those Libyans lighting their candles to remind all of us: we're still here, and we still remember.