"My favorite song was the one below. To sing it, the teacher stood in front of the children who were organized into groups representing continents or countries. The teacher began the song by asking the question. "Who are you?"
One group of children would answer, "We are the Africans."
"And you?"
"We are the Asians."
"And you?"
"We are the Americans."
"And you?"
"We are the Australians."
"And you?"
"We are the Europeans."
"And you?"
"We are the Arabians."
"Forget those names. We are all the children of God."
***
The above passage doesn't sum up this book but more my reasoning why we need to read these kinds of books. It is difficult. It is sad. It is horrifying. And while I know that reading a book won't save a child, won't make their lives easier, won't put food in their bellies or dispell fear from their hearts, it reminds me so loudly of all that I need to be grateful for--first world problems indeed.
I read some other book that dealt with refugees and someone in it asked to imagine being woken up in the middle of the night, sleep still fogging your mind, with no notice, no warning, no time to pack, just leaving everything you know and love behind. Running for your life with whatever you thought to grab and the clothes on your back. And then walking (not driving, not taking a bike, but only the two feet you were born with) to another country, hoping against hope they would "save" you. For an American, this thought is almost impossible to imagine.
These boys did just that. And did it over and over and over. Each place a mirage of respite until the next nightmare began. When this story began, they were 5 years old. 15 years of terror, starvation, illness, and loss. For some, at the time of publication, they are still waiting. And yet, on each page, always, always, always hope. Hope for peace. Hope for something better. Hope for family.
I hope you read this book. America, for all our problems, should continue to strive to be the beacon of hope and dreams. We should strive to be better people, to show more compassion, more kindness, more generosity. Not because we get something in return--respect, praise, love. But because we can. Because in comparison, we universally have so much more, even we individually have less.
We all can't go running out and save the world. But maybe stories like this will remind us to try and be a little kinder, have a little more patience, show a little more mercy. You never know when your action may touch someone who desperately needs hope. And like all tales of survivorship, sometimes hope is all there is.