Wonky knees have brought an end to my sporting days, but short walks around our rural district of Shirimatunda, near Moshi, have brought many compensations. Returning from a recent one, not long after much needed rains, I heard shrieks of delighted laughter from a group of children, about a dozen or so. They were running up and down waving small sticks with strings trailing bits of paper, about five centimeters square. Following the rains, lots of butterflies had emerged. To my astonishment, it seemed that a number of butterflies were actually chasing after the tiny kites (called tiara). In fact, the small papers flutter in the breeze very much like the butterflies. In my native England I had seen children chasing butterflies, but never butterflies chasing children! 1 could hardly believe it, so I asked the children themselves: "Michezo yenu inavutia vipepeo?" (Do your toys attract the butterflies?) "Ndiyo! Vipepeo vinacheza nasi! Kweii! ("Yes, the butterflies play with us! Truly!), A few days later, when I went to celebrate Mass in another district, Pasua, I saw the same thing again. One girl was standing still and whirling her tiara in a circle, with two butterflies dancing around it. I have checked on this with others and am assured that it is no illusion, "The butterflies play with us!" - I can honestly say that the incident left me feeling years younger. A completely new and beautiful experience at the age of seventy-four! In a world of so much doom and gloom 1 felt wonderfully refreshed - and by the simple joy of youth. Hope for the world indeed!. But let's turn over a page.

Given the atmosphere and culture of violence, the wisdom of giving toy guns as gifts for children is much debated nowadays, and with good reason Yet among many others, Charles Taylor in Liberia set out deliberately to give real guns to children. I saw hundreds of such boys during my spell of eight years there, which included the seven year war (followed later by another, when I was already in East Africa). It is estimated that about 20,000 boy soldiers were recruited in Liberia by the various factions. Their average age was around thirteen. With those guns boys in opposing factions also killed each other. From a trustworthy source, I heard the following account of the fate of some of these boys, serving in Charles Taylor s NPFL. The correspondent was at the front with experienced soldiers, A unit of boy soldiers was ordered to attack their position, charging across open ground They were met with a hail of bullets from machine guns and automatic rifles. The attack failed and the NPFL retired, leaving dozens of dead and wounded boys behind. Far from any medical post, the defending commander rescued only a few boys, those with less serious wounds, Faced with the prospect of leaving the seriously wounded to die slowly in agony, or fall victim to animals, he reluctantly ordered the boys to be "finished off". Some boys were pitifully begging for just this. So their young lives were ended with a mercy bullet 1 recall this sad story to compare it with the happy scene described above. How can such utterly contrasting events occur on the same planet? What value a young life? Should we hope or despair?