One evening around early 2000s, my grandma and great-grandma would sat on the porch with me. They would tell tales of their own experiences during World War II in the Philippines, that Great-grandma cooked for the American soldiers, that she used to wash their uniforms in the riverbanks. My grandma, on the other hand, would add that, as a young girl at the time, what she could remember is herself hiding with people in the mountains, that it was not the best time to grow as a child. I realized in those moments that war is never a good idea.
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