I was secretly glad to have a cold yesterday so it didn’t notice when my eyes would tear up.
You see my daughter has been talking with her husband, who is working as a translator for the Syrian refugees pouring into Germany. He told her how there are so very many orphans. Some parents have died on overcrowded boats and some, there not being space for them all to get on the trains, had, in sacrificial desperation, thrust them in the available spaces (some only 2-3 years old)
I cannot imagine being so desperate for my children’s safety that i could make such a sacrifice, having to trust somehow the German people would take care of them.
The German government is pleading for people to adopts these little ones.
(Don’t believe all you read in the media about Syrian refugees by the way. The vast majority arriving, he said, are Syrian women and children, not single men or not economic opportunists with fake Syrian passports.)
from July 2014
Night was dark, all encompassing around him, punctuated with the echoes of far off shelling. He wanted it to be over.
The sheet clung to his body, damp, confining. Gone were the boyhood sounds of nature, gone too the human hubbub that distracted his thoughts during the day. At night he was alone with his fears; he could not hide from them. Again and again he traced threads in his head, patterns that had brought him here. He was not enamored of the man he had become, the blood of conflict stained his hands also. Faces loomed from the darkness of memory.
Once there had been love, and light. He had walked in sunshine. Now that was over and night ruled his ruined heart. Where was it going to end? Hate begets hate, when would he be free to love again?
A passing vehicle made patterns of light on the…
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