“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” – Psalms 116:15
Cecil the Lion, you walked proudly through the bush. American children, you did not walk because you were not yet able.
Cecil, you were an apex predator among the beasts of the African wild. American children, you were a threat to no man, but rather as vulnerable as an ant on the sidewalk.
Cecil, you were an animal of great value, not only to those who hunted you, but to those who tried to preserve your life. American children, you were creatures of no value, not only to those who paid to have you killed, but to those who protect the “rights” of the doctors and women who killed you.
Cecil, the Obama administration cares for you; they’ve vowed to get to the bottom of your “tragic killing.” American children, the Obama administration refuses to cut off funding for the organization that shreds you, and sells your bodies for parts.
Cecil, your death has rapt the American people. American children, your deaths are routine and legal.
Cecil, your death has caused millions who’d never heard your name before to openly cry in anger and sadness. American children, few care that you’ve died, because few truly knew you even existed.
Cecil, you were protected. American children, you were not.
Cecil, you mattered. American children, you did not.
Cecil, your photo saturates television and social media. American children, your blood saturates our hands.
How sad and wretched we’ve become that a lion in Africa is worth more than a human child.