Sitting on the stairs.

I was sitting on the stairs. I was about five. And I was crying.
My Dad came out and saw me.

"Hey. Why are you crying, son?"
"Because I'm sad."
"Why are you sad?"
"Because of that thing that was on the news,"
"What thing that was on the news?"
" That thing about how a soldier got killed. Why did someone do that?"
"Well, there are people in this country who don't like soldiers."
"But that doesn't make it all right to kill them, does it? Killing people is wrong. Isn't it?"
"Yes, son. Killing people is wrong.."