It's almost 1 am. My husband and I are both wide awake. In my part of the world it's not the best of days. Basically a silent war is taking place against my people. Blood shed, news of all sorts, you reach a point where you don't want to know anything. your head will explode. If it hasn't already done so.
|A pen and paper can change a lot. Believe me. More than bullets and guns.|
After I completed the peer education training in one of the refugee camps a few of the girls kept calling and texting me. Sometimes in the worse timings, sometimes I'd feel they get upset when I don't reply. When I looked closely at their texts it seemed they were alone and loved that Sazan is there to listen or reply. The girls at the camp seemed to be depressed, feeling lonely and they each loved to write and express. So, I spoke to a few friends and my amazing cousins with a simple idea. Are you ready to know what happened?
|With me I had the most precious things to pass to previous people|
Two days later my Facebook and email was filled with beautiful words of encouragement, support, inspiration and it was all written with love. Letters. Letters written to the girls in the camp by my cousins and friends. I printed and sealed each in an envelope (except Ashna's which she had sealed herself and hand passed it to me) I delivered them today.
|words, nice words, can change everything|
Four girls randomly in one of the refugee camps received their letters and in a matter of minutes they felt like their unknown friend was a lifetime best friend. From these girls I heard the most amazing words, a simple letter made them happy. Extremely happy. Their expressions, the way they read each word and how serious they took the words.
I watched these girls giggle and tear slide down their faces. I saw these young girls whose future is frozen for the time being smile. They felt loved. They felt they're being heard. They felt someone cares. I don't know what else they felt (do you realize now what I mean by not being able to put the perfect words next to each other?) but that energy in the caravan, that atmosphere...was pure happiness.
What worries me is these girls have been living under a tent with their family for over a year fleeing the violence in Syria. There are no schools for them at the moment, being 15-18 year olds means a possibility for them is to get married, have a child and... well, live life. I worry that they no longer believe in their dreams. But the letters... these letters seem to change a lot of things.
I think of the girls at the camp often,
They have become part of my life,
Letters, words... can plant a smile. Good night.
Lots of love from
My Nest in Kurdistan,