Today the children brought you flowers unmindful of the violent rain beating upon their backs their lamentations and vows of revenge no longer a sign of innocence.   Remember? It also rained in your village that day eight seasons ago when they came from the cities raw youths with their crude inferior weapons their social message and sterling courage bringing light to centuries of ignorance -   a sharp contrast indeed to the hacienderos who grabbed your lands the bandits who plundered your homes the constables who raped your sisters and murdered your brothers. . .   So you listened and wondered and understood and thus enlightened also rose up in revolt against the hunger the wickedness the genuflection the filth. . . .   It was not hard then when the moment came to engage the enemy in mortal combat to choose between self and self's death between betrayal and honor between that moment and forever.   Kasama! The day when we encircle the enemy camp is still far off. Today we are still concerned with enlightenment and land reform and hounding the ICHDFs to their graves.   We remain undaunted.   Today the children brought you flowers singing hymns of battle in the bloodred sunset.   They have not forgotten.