The sound only lasted for a second or two, but it tore through the air with the sharpness of a knife piercing my heart. It was a cry of terror, a scream of recognition and fear. A cry of "How can this be happening?" Of "Why me!"
Of "Stop! I'm a mother!" And "Stop! I'm her child!"
My chest contracted and my heart pounded and I wanted to join the scream with my own "No!" But all I could do to help was to quickly chant, "Amituofo, Amituofo, Amituofo" and focus on those who were so terrified.
And then, as quickly as it began, the screaming was gone. It hadn't stopped, but only passed beyond my ears ability to catch it. But in my mind—in my heart—I still hear. And out there, the terror still exists. It will continue into the night, and into tomorrow, and the next day. Then exhausted, there will be one final, hoarse "No!" Then silence.
And although my mind understands, my heart still whispers "Why."
My mind replies, "Greed. And ignorance. Humans have the ability to live in harmony with their world, but they indulge themselves without thinking of the costs. They think they are special because they have technology and science and power."
And my heart wants to cry, but of course a heart cannot cry.
It can only quiver and remember the calm it knew a few minutes ago. Before I went to shut the front window, before I heard the screams, and before I looked out the window to see the pigs crammed into the truck that was taking them to be slaughtered. So people, with money and more power than they, can enjoy their bacon and pork as they mindlessly eat their breakfast and dinner.
And my heart and my mind hold each other, and together they chant "Amituofo, Amituofo, Amituofo."