A child has died. For a parent there’s there no bigger heartbreak, right?
When a man and a cute little boy came into the Refugee Camp shop yesterday and Wanita asked him how many children he has I wasn’t expecting such a sad expression on his face… He ruffled the hair of his little boy and said he has 3 children with him and his wife at the camp. But they had 5 children – all boys. He gestured for sleeping and the number 2. And said the word bomb.
What do you say? How do you express your sorrow at his pain?
So we smile and offer them biscuits, sugar, crackers and tuna and pack their shopping bag for them. We try and tell them with our eyes that we could never understand their pain, but we do acknowledge it. That we’re here to try and help in our small way. I think they understand. I hope so.
For anyone still wondering why they’re here in a hot, dusty, cramped refugee camp? Why they want to start a new life in Europe? They quite simply have no choice.
We MUST help them. We don’t have a choice either. Please campaign to open our borders. Please let’s not be the country that goes down in history as turning our backs – not only on Syrians, Afghans and other refugee states, but also on our European neighbours of Greece, Italy, France, Germany and others who are helping the crisis as best they can whilst we do nothing. ?
