This time of year is full of festivity and light and, yes, snow (whether you like it or don't, it is beautiful when it first falls). But as we all know, there are many who aren't looking forward to the Christmas period, or the snow, for many reasons, and it's something I've been thinking about a lot, especially when it comes to the dreadful plight of refugees. We all have so many calls on our time, and our pockets, that it's hard to know who to give to and what good it does if you do, though you hope it all gets through to the right place and people. This year, I've chosen to support UNCHR (The UN Refugee Agency) rather than sending cards, and with that in mind, I wrote this little 100 word story especially for Awfully Big Blog Adventure, in the hope that maybe someone out there who reads it will consider supporting them too, or another refugee agency. There are too many Hayas out there.
Maybe it would snow, Haya thought. The last snow she’d seen had been on tents in Calais, on ground mushed up by thousands of feet into slidy slush which melted through the rags round her sandals, making her toes pinch and tingle as they slowly froze black. Now she had only eight toes to put inside her new trainers. The people were not unkind here, but she missed Mama and Ranim. Because only Haya had made it safely through the tunnel. Now some scary officials were trying to send her home. Wherever home was. Haya couldn’t remember that any more.You can find out more about UNCHR's work here.
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| photo from care4calais.org |
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1 comment:
Thanks for sharing the story here, Lucy, and the links to UNCR.
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