Prompt from Twitterlit: I believe I will begin at the end

I would like to begin this story at the end. From this vantage point it would make so much more sense, all the pain and suffering, all the sacrifice – it would come with some sort of understanding.
If I told you somewhere half way around the world a brother and a sister had spent their lives working to bring peace and freedom to what was once a war torn country, filled with repression, terror and extremism, and had finally seen the fulfillment of that dream so many years later would it help us to understand? If I told you that as young children, these two individuals were saved from sniper fire, or a suicide bomber, or torture and death at the hands of extremists because people thought it was important enough to go half way around the world to try to help them? What if the talking heads, the pundits and pontificators, are looking at history all wrong? Perhaps history is not what happened yesterday, to be editorialized today but rather its what happens everyday, the result of which can only be determined years down the road.
I would like to begin this story there, at the end of the road, when all the cards are played, the truth’s revealed, the understanding of the importance of all the sacrifice that went into places like, Iraq, or Afghanistan or Bosnia or all the other places where people are in bondage and someone thinks sacrifice will bring change. Sadly I cannot, because we are not at the end. We’re here with little true understanding of how it will all play out, not just in an election year, but in 20 years, or 50 years.
So the only story I can tell you is of a little blonde headed, girl with big blue eyes who misses her daddy and wants him to come home. I can tell you that he might or might not. That the headlines we don’t read, about the things that didn’t happen, will probably be the most important, and that history may or may not record them, but it will make a difference – someday it will, just wait and see.