Dear Alyan,
Dear, sweet Alyan.
When I saw the photograph of you on the beach yesterday morning, I wanted to
run down to the field near the river near my house and have a massive,
justified, tantrum. Please forgive us; we’ve failed you.
Once, when I was still
a child myself, I sat under the stars and vowed to always stand for the
children, to never sit quietly in a society where children were abused. Alyan,
the whole world is this society now. Your government could not protect you; you
had become a child of the world. We should have taken care of you. We didn’t.
I know a sweet boy
about your age. He’s just learned to walk on his own, and often he’ll shriek
with the joy of simply being alive. His smile lights up the whole day. He may
be little, but I truly count him as my friend. Alyan, I would have loved to be
your friend, friend to your brother, Galip, your mama, Rihan, and your papa, Abdullah.
Alyan, I know you
are safe in the arms of my Jesus now. I know you are free of this horrendous
place, never again to be alone or afraid. But I miss you, little friend. I miss
your sweet heart. The world is not the same without your laughter. Even though
your whole life was lived within a warzone, until your mama and your papa
decided to try and take you to a kinder place, your laughter still sweetened
Kobane, your sweet soul brought hope.
There are many people
who say we do not have enough to take care of others like you. This is not
true. God always has enough.
There are some who
say we must take care of our own before we can take care of you. You are our own. We all belong to
each other. That’s what I believe. I know it sounds idealistic, but the reality
is, Jesus came to save us all.
There are some who
say it is dangerous, to love. This is true; love is dangerous. The first time
Love came, we killed Him, too. It doesn’t matter. Fear of danger never takes precedence over love.
There are some who
pretend this is all political. Sweet Alyan, you are not political. Your short,
tender story has nothing to do with politics.
I know that love is
an action, more than a feeling, and I know too that there is very little I can
do for you. I let my spirit cry out to the One who filled the seas and painted
your eyes that soft brown. I cry for you, Alyan. For all the other babies like
you, everywhere, who live in fear and whose societies have failed them. I cry
for your mama, who never saw her children safe, and your papa, who wants to
read his holy book over your grave until he, too, relinquishes his life. You
have been cheated, friend, and no amount of “there is always a reason” will
satisfy my soul this time. The world has wronged you.
You lived three
years in a warzone. My past three years have been peace and comfort. I cannot fathom
what you have seen in your short life. May your father forgive us. May he sleep,
and dream of Love tonight.
Friend, I will not
forget you. You did not die in vain. You did not live in vain, either. Your
life had purpose. Your story has worth.
May you forget us
quickly, but may we never, ever forget you.
Love,
Phoebe
http://www.aholyexperience.com/2015/09/dear-alyan-dear-world-with-a-refugee-crisis-dear-all-of-us-who-have-needed-to-be-welcomed-in/
