Ground Zero Alan Gratz Quotes

And without a dream, without ambition, what point was there to living?

You Americans think you can fix everything by throwing money at it,” she added. “But your friend was right. This is like the Stone Age. Because no one will let us get past the Stone Age. Not when there is nothing but war. Do you understand? The best thing you can do to help us is leave us alone.

We’re a team,” his dad repeated. “That’s what we’ve always said. This is how we survive, right? Together. It’s you and me against the world. But you shut me out on this one. And you let down the team.

Moving forward was scary. Sometimes you made mistakes. Sometimes you took the wrong path. And sometimes, even when you took the right path, things could go wrong. But Reshmina realized that she wanted—needed—to keep moving forward, no matter what.

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Maybe, Reshmina thought, they wouldn’t fight at all. Maybe they would spend their time doing something else instead, like building factories and schools and hospitals.

We're a team, you and I

Reshmina was barely listening. All she could do was stare wide-eyed at the translator. All the Afghan women Reshmina knew were mothers, wives, and daughters. None of them had jobs outside the home—and especially not important jobs like translator, where they worked and talked with men outside their families. “Who are you?” Reshmina whispered to the translator. The woman smiled. “My name is Mariam. I’m from Kabul.” Reshmina couldn’t believe it. It was like a whole new path had appeared before her that she hadn’t known was there before. A whole new person she could become.

explosions. The battle was over. “Yes, Mor,” Reshmina

As a boy, Pasoon had time for games and practical jokes. His only chore was to take the goats up into the mountains to graze for a few hours. As a girl, Reshmina worked from the moment she woke up until she went to sleep at night. While Pasoon had been lying in wait for her, Reshmina had been hauling water up from the river. There were also clothes to be washed, rugs to be beaten and stacked, floors to be swept, animals to be fed, food to be cooked—and, every afternoon, the two-kilometer walk back and forth to school. Pasoon didn’t even do that anymore. He’d quit going to school a year ago.

Brandon stared at the picture of himself. Dark, messy hair. Brown skin and high cheekbones, like his dad. A slightly upturned nose and blue eyes, like his mom. His name—Brandon Chavez—was printed beneath the picture, along with the date: September 11, 2001.

Nope! Not now!” Taz agreed, letting them hurry him along.

Reshmina wanted to scream, partly from fear and partly from anger. She had just gone looking for her brother! She hadn’t expected to end up in the middle of a battle. Why couldn’t everyone just leave them alone? Reshmina stayed flat on her face for a moment, catching her breath. When she finally looked up, she was staring right into the eyes of a camel. The sight of it was so silly, so surreal after what they’d just been through, that she wanted to laugh out loud. Pasoon did laugh. “Ha!” Plegh. The camel spit in Pasoon’s face. “Gross!” Pasoon cried, and he wiped his face on his sleeve.

Pasoon,” Reshmina said, “what if there was another way? What if—” But when she looked up, Pasoon was gone.

Moving forward was scary. Sometimes you made mistakes. Sometimes you took the wrong path. And sometimes, even when you took the right path, things could go wrong. But Reshmina realized that she wanted—needed—to keep moving forward, no matter what. It was her fault that her family was in danger. It was her fault that Pasoon had chosen today to leave and join the Taliban. If she had chosen revenge over refuge with Taz, she and Pasoon would still be home right now, living their normal lives. But sometimes what was right and what was easy were two different things.

What would happen, Reshmina wondered, if the big countries stopped selling weapons to the little countries?