Letter from Paris – You will not have my hatred

A friend of mine in Paris sent this to me yesterday.  It’s already an internet meme, but I find it really powerful.

You will not have my hatred.
Friday night you took the life of an exceptional person, the love of my life, the mother of my son, but you will not have my hatred. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t want to know, you are dead to me. If this God for whom you kill blindly made us in his own image, each bullet in my wife’s body is a wound in his heart. Therefore, no, I won’t bother hating you. You have really tried to make me, but to respond to hate with anger would be to give in to the same ignorance which made you who you are. You want me to be afraid, to view my fellow citizens with suspicion, that I give up my liberty for security.

You lose!

This morning I saw her. Finally after days and night of waiting. She was as beautiful as when she left home Friday night, as beautiful as when I fell head over heels in love with her 12 years ago. Of course I am devastated by grief, I’ll give you that little victory, but it will be short lived. I know that she will be with me every day and that we will meet again in a Heaven full of free souls to which you’ll never have access. There’s just the two of us, my son and me, but we’re stronger than all the weapons in the world. I have no time to spare for you, I must go to Melvil, who’s just waking from his nap. He’s scarcely 17 months old.  He’s going to eat his afternoon snack like every day, then we’re going to play just like we do every day and all his life my little boy will be happy and free despite you. Because you will not have his hatred either.”

“Vous n’aurez pas ma haine”
Vendredi soir vous avez volé la vie d’un être d’exception, l’amour de ma vie, la mère de mon fils mais vous n’aurez pas ma haine. Je ne sais pas qui vous êtes et je ne veux pas le savoir, vous êtes des âmes mortes. Si ce Dieu pour lequel vous tuez aveuglément nous a fait à son image, chaque balle dans le corps de ma femme aura été une blessure dans son coeur.
Alors non je ne vous ferai pas ce cadeau de vous haïr. Vous l’avez bien cherché pourtant mais répondre à la haine par la colère ce serait céder à la même ignorance qui a fait de vous ce que vous êtes. Vous voulez que j’aie peur, que je regarde mes concitoyens avec un oeil méfiant, que je sacrifie ma liberté pour la sécurité.
Je l’ai vue ce matin. Enfin, après des nuits et des jours d’attente. Elle était aussi belle que lorsqu’elle est partie ce vendredi soir, aussi belle que lorsque j’en suis tombé éperdument amoureux il y a plus de 12 ans. Bien sûr je suis dévasté par le chagrin, je vous concède cette petite victoire, mais elle sera de courte durée. Je sais qu’elle nous accompagnera chaque jour et que nous nous retrouverons dans ce paradis des âmes libres auquel vous n’aurez jamais accès.
Nous sommes deux, mon fils et moi, mais nous sommes plus fort que toutes les armées du monde. Je n’ai d’ailleurs pas plus de temps à vous consacrer, je dois rejoindre Melvil qui se réveille de sa sieste. Il a 17 mois à peine, il va manger son goûter comme tous les jours, puis nous allons jouer comme tous les jours et toute sa vie ce petit garçon vous fera l’affront d’être heureux et libre. Car non, vous n’aurez pas sa haine non plus.

About kurtnemes
Writer and Education Professional. Specialties include Ethics, Personal Memoir, Classical music, Tai Chi, Stress Reduction, Meditation, Coping, Classical Music, Aging, Love, Joy, Compassion and Equanimity (& what interests me.)

4 Responses to Letter from Paris – You will not have my hatred

  1. richibi says:

    quelle dure leçon, Kurt, what a hard lesson, pour votre ami, for your friend

    would you let him know for me that his pursuit is the only viable response to such a tragedy, otherwise you lose your soul

    many years ago, during my own existential struggles, I devised that I would act, not react, to even the most excruciating eventuality, the result was that I took on the challenges of my own moral responsibilities, stood firmly, and honourably, in the shoes of my own creation, I became my own hu/man, not that of the original, however abject, however unholy, perpetrator

    which doesn’t make the struggles necessarily less difficult, but gives one the glory of one’s own achievement, spiritual or otherwise, which is the only thing, finally, that life is about, the only thing, in the end, we ask of ourselves

    mon âme souffre fort avec cet ami à vous qui souffre, son fils dépourvu maintenant d’une mère, je leurs offre mes plus sincères condoléances, ainsi que mes plus ardentes prières

    my soul aches with that of your friend’s, as well as with his orphaned son’s, ravaged now of a loving mother, please relay to them my most heartfelt condolences, as well as my most fervent prayers



  2. XperDunn says:

    Reblogged this on Xper Dunn Is Here and commented:
    Shared from “Kurt Nemes’ Classical Music Almanac”


  3. XperDunn says:

    I am greatly heartened by this. We Americans can be so focused on sensationalism that we run the risk of embracing the terror, of aiding the terrorists in our imaginations, instead of defying them, as they must be defied, belittled, and ultimately ignored.

    Liked by 1 person

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