When I saw the picture of your lifeless body washed up on
the beach of the Turkish coast, thousands of miles from here. I saw my son. And
I can’t stop the tears because you were so young and so at the mercy of those
around you and you were rejected and it cost you your life.
Oh God, please forgive us our complacency and our love of
comfort and wealth, which costs the world so much. It demands the lives of
innocent children, sending them to their deaths. We who live in countries,
which are so wealthy and vast cannot open up our doors and our lives to you who
simply want a chance to live in a place where there is no conflict and no war,
no indiscriminate killing and no hunger and abject poverty.
We have all the water that we want and the food that we want
and all the space that we want and yet we do not share because we are afraid.
Dear little boy, it is true we in the west are afraid of you
and because of that crippling fear we let you die. You, who only lived for
three short years, you who will never grow up, never learn to read, never kick
another ball, never make life altering decisions, never taste the freedom here
on earth that the few of us have. Your young life consisted of growing up in a
country filled with war and hate. All your family wanted was for you to taste
the sweetness of security and peace.
We in the west have seen your picture, your image seared
into our minds and I pray that it will open up our hearts and our eyes to
understand what is truly happening in the world.
Here in Australia we like to think that we are a country of
opportunity and that we give everyone ‘a fair go’—as long as they come here in
the appropriate manner and are deemed acceptable.
We cannot comprehend what it is to only know fear and hunger
and pain and terror. We do not understand true poverty, no clean water, no
inside plumbing, no weekly rubbish collection. We have no idea what its like to
run and run and run and never escape the guns and soldiers, war lords,
kidnappers and slave traders.
We do not understand, so we prefer to close our eyes and not
think about it.
We say, “That was irresponsible to try and go to a country
so far away. Your parents should have tried somewhere closer.” Ignoring the
fact that all the countries that surround yours are packed to the hilt and
cannot support any more refugees.
We say, “Don’t come here, we are an island and you will die if
you try to come.” Ignoring the obvious that you will die if you do not try.
Ignoring the fact that there is no other way. Ignoring the fact that you and your neighbours have already died a thousand
times. Like that time when the bombs first fell and the houses were blown
apart. Or the time your friend, watched soldiers kill his father and older
brothers. Then there was the time that the men came and took your nine-year old
neighbour away to sell her as a sex slave. You died and died and died again.
And now I begin to understand why you would try and get as
far away as possible and risk your very life for a chance of freedom.
Now you, sweet innocent have crossed a line in the sand and
cannot be ignored.
All our wealth will rot if we cannot give it away. All our
comfort and security is false if we cannot share it with those who need it
most.
May we learn, that no matter what the motivations of a few
maybe, innocent lives are lost when we indiscriminately reject everyone
seeking refuge because the do not fit the mold or follow the rules.
So, young one, you challenge me. I pray that I have the
courage to move over, to share some space, to share my feast table—the
blessings that have been entrusted to me so that I can in turn bless others.
And I pray, knowing that you are safe in the arms of the one
who loves us all more than we can ever comprehend, that we will learn to love
abundantly, freely and without fear.
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