Baby Che

"I know you are here to kill me," Che says with guns staring him in the face. "Shoot coward! You're only going to kill a man."

And they did.

Pulling their triggers, they shot a captured man dead.

Then they took their pictures with him.

They took one of his dead face to prove the great revolutionary ... the lover of the poor ... hater of what makes poverty in the first place ... dead.

Like the United States wanted.

Che had beaten the US at it's own game and Democracy ruled by Capitalism couldn't stand for that so, pretending the CIA were helping, America shot him dead.

America had won again!

USA! ... USA! ... USA!

Only it didn't.

Throughout the world, especially among the poor, he lives ... just as Jesus does for millions more.

Che's photograph is "the most famous in the world."

The USA won a battle.

Che lives.

Who won the war?

My baby girl is almost five months formed in Sarah's womb.

I kiss you every single day hoping the love makes it all the way to your cheek on the other side of your Mom's belly.

You will be called lots of things in your life.

I certainly have been and they're not always nice.

And there are those who will do their best to kill you too, at least in spirit, and killing's killing.

Clare Hope Elliott is your name.

Clare from a county in Ireland.

Hope because you are and it matches the names on your Mom's back.

Elliott because it's passed down to you from me.

But Che!

Well, Che is who you are.