I got up this morning and marvelled at the beautiful sea view right outside of our window. It was dark when we arrived last night. By half past 8 this morning I was knee deep in the sea being handed a baby. I’ve seen videos and photos and thought is it possible that this is happening on our doorstep? It’s worse than any video. By 2.30 we had met 7 or 8 boats with I don’t know how many people. Smugglers often drug the children and I’ve never seen such trauma in people’s eyes before. After a little while the children start chatting and weird as it feels we had them laughing and playing. Marcie had a skipping rope in her pocket and we jumped and skipped and then bawled our eyes out the minute they were gone. I don’t really know what else to say. I’m knackered but I’m here by choice and i don’t have a fraction of the courage that these people have.
Piles of life jackets lying about the island are testament to those that have been before. Those that have survived the journey – many do not. A smile, a hug, a cup of tea and a moment to gather all that has been is what we are able to offer. It does not seem much, in fact it feels woefully inadequate but we are flooded with words of thanks and gratitude. These people have such grace and I can’t help but wonder how I might behave in a similar situation.