A mother’s request for all those Syrian Children

Can you remember a time when your parent scolded or even hit you? A time when you feel it wasn’t your fault. If it’s not a parent. It’s a teacher. An uncle or an aunt. I think all of us have those times. And that memory has stuck with us. We may even blame that incident or incidents on our psychological development.

And now imagine the plight of the Syrian children or any child caught in the crossfire of a war. They are being chemically gassed, mutilated, being orphaned and left crying; when all they should be doing is wondering where the sun disappears in the night. At such a small age, they are forced to make a sense out of all the senseless killing and the loss of a parent.

Imagine if these children were to enter our own child’s bedroom. They would think they have entered paradise. Toys scattered everyone. A comfortable bed. Parents who are smiling and laughing. Something our own children seriously take for granted.

I believe these children would come to haunt us one day. Even the living ones or perhaps specially the living ones. Probably armed with guns and bombs. And it would be our fault. Partly. For turning a blind eye to all these children. I don’t endorse terrorists but often I wonder what made these people who they are. The senseless killing they do. Is it because it’s the only thing they saw growing up.

A quote by the great parliamentarian, Edmund Burke, comes to my mind: ‘The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing’. Writing notes (like I am doing) doesn’t constitute as doing something. Most of us wonder what we can do. We don’t know. All of us want to help. But we are only left with hugging our children a little tighter and showering them with kisses they don’t understand the reason behind. For now, I will just contend with that. But I teach my children to be more understanding of these children when they grow older.

And if there is ever a time if I could help these children, I won’t sit back. And I ask of all parents to do the same. Offer a hand to help, if only to salute them for going through all that and coming out with even the tiniest fraction of humanity left.