Member-only story
What A Hungry Refugee Child In Turkey Taught Me
He left with milk for his sister while I left with a new eye on life
As I stepped off the beautiful Bosphorus cruise in Istanbul, my hair was beehived with wind and ocean breeze. I walked with a sway in my step; still used to the rocking motion of the boat. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, burning the sky in an extravagant fashion.
With the luxury and opulence of the boat ride came the stark contrast of stepping back onto land. As the area wasn’t a touristy area, there was trash strewn onto the road and many families sat on the street with signs pleading for food. It was the hard reality of how millions of people around the world live.
One particular family sat on the road with a sign that said “We are from Syria. Please help.” Upon seeing my family and I, five boys and two girls, all certainly under the age of 10, rushed over to us in a flurry.
They said words in Arabic; words I couldn’t understand.
But, what they were asking for was made clear by their cupping hand motion and pleading eyes; money or food.
As I saw the children fervently beg, my heart panged at the sight of childhood so different from my…
