FROM THE KITCHEN I LOOK OVER AND SEE MY TWO BOYS. THEY ARE PLAYING "NINJA" AND FOR THE MOMENT, TO THEM I DO NOT EXIST. IT IS ONLY ONE AND THE OTHER - DUELING TO THE DEATH. THEIR FISTS FLYING THROUGH THE AIR TO COME DOWN HARD - TO DESTROY, TO DEFEND. THEIR ATTEMPTED ROUND-HOUSES NOT AS GRACEFUL AS THEY'D LIKE THEM TO BE. AND THEIR FACES - THEY SNEER AND THEY GRIMACE, AND THEY SCARE ME. THEIR EYES SQUINTED WITH ANGER AND THEIR LIPS DRAWN TIGHTLY BACK - REVEALING FURY, NOT FEAR. THE "BRUCE LEE CRIES" FROM THEIR TINY VOCAL CHORDS. THE SLOW AND STEADY GAZE THEY HOLD...IN MOCK CONCENTRATION.

DO THEY KNOW HOW REAL THEY LOOK? DOES ONE KNOW THE OTHER IS TRULY FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE? I WONDER...WOULD HE TAKE IT?

ONE DRAWS HIS PLASTIC GOLF CLUB FROM HIS BELT AND HE BELIEVES IT TO BE HIS SWORD-HIS DEFENSE. THE OTHER DOES A SOMERSAULT AND SUDDENLY OUT OF NO-WHERE HE PULLS OUT A LINCOLN LOG AND HE KNOWS THAT WITHOUT THIS DAGGER HE WOULD BE AT THE MERCY OF HIS BIG BROTHER.

THEY GRUNT AND THEY HEAVE, AND THEY JUMP, AND THEY ROLL. THEY SCREAM AND THEY THREATEN, AND THEY DARE, AND THEY DO AND THEY SURVIVE. THEY ARE PROUD AND THEY ARE POWERFUL, AND THEY ARE AT NO-ONES MERCY BUT THEIR OWN. THEY NEVER LAUGH, THIS IS SERIOUS. THEY NEVER CRY, THEY ARE NINJAS.

I BEGIN TO WONDER IF I SHOULD ALLOW THEM TO PLAY SUCH VIOLENT GAMES. I FIGHT WITH MYSELF NOT TO STOP THEM AND SUGGEST A QUIET GAME OF "CANDY LAND". PERHAPS THIS FIGHTING, (MAKE-BELIEVE OR NOT) IS NOT HEALTHY FOR A THREE AND A FOUR YEAR OLD. AFTER ALL, THEY COULD GET HURT.

THE SWORD SLICES THE AIR AND KNOCKS OVER A GLASS, SPILLING JUICE ALL OVER THE CARPET. I YELL AT THEM TO STOP AND I TAKE AWAY THEIR WEAPONS...THEIR DEFENSE...THEIR PROTECTION. "AW MAN!" THEY SAY. THEY POUT AND THEY SULK TO THEIR BEDROOM.

I WALK OVER TO THE TELEVISION AND I TURN IT ON...AND I BECOME A WITNESS. A WITNESS TO THE RAPING, THE BEATING, THE MUGGING, THE SHOOTING, AND THE CHILD ABUSE. I THINK TO MYSELF "THAT COULD'VE BEEN ME, THAT COULD'VE BEEN MY BOYS. WHAT IF I CAN'T BE THERE TO PROTECT THEM?"

AS THE TEARS FALL FROM MY EYES I PICK UP THE SWORD AND I PICK UP THE DAGGER. I WALK INTO MY CHILDREN'S BEDROOM...WITH A PRAYER IN MY HEART...AND I GIVE THEM BACK...TO MY NINJAS.