A mere UNHCR intern had the privilege of meeting Syrians; Shawaam. Dealing with Syrian refugees everyday made me learn a lot sensationally and mentally. They taught me how to realize light within pain in the eyes of their children. They are people who long for the light so that they finally can hold the ones they love. The ones they love are not necessarily alive though. You can see the ghosts of their souls in the eyes of the survived-ones. Sometimes when they tell us part of their stories, I think they aren’t necessarily searching for a solution.
Sometimes all they want is to be heard, to be listened to, and to know that we understand the depth of their pain to the extent of feeling it ourselves. Their pain is hard as much as a cut through the flesh of our hearts with thousand razor blades (if you can imagine that).These people are like beautiful pieces of a broken pottery that were put back together with their own hands. They don’t really need our help. But they crave seeing in our eyes that we consider them too people; human beings.
How about you? Why not you? Why not you in this city or the other city? Why not you in this exact night? or in the other morning? I beg of you? Why not you? Because like this city or any other city, like this night or any other morning, you will hardly track the difference. You are one of them, or will you be like them?