Sunday, September 13, 2015

Refugee Picture

Since seeing the picture of the little boy washed up on the beach, the dead 3 year old, I have been very disturbed. The picture greatly affected me, I saw it via social media last Friday in the am, sitting at my desk and I was in tears. I had to go to the bathroom twice during the day just to sob in private. Even now, I can't look at the picture without tearing up. It breaks my heart. And yet I wonder why does it affect me so? I think in large part, because the little boy could be my little boy (my 2-year old), the way the child is laying there, that is how my son sleeps.  Maybe it is the idea of that poor little thing being alone, being so innocent and having his life taken away by such a cruel fate. And than I wonder about where is the little boy now? In Islam, we consider the dead as sleeping, waiting for the day of judgement. Yet as a mother, I would like to think that somehow the little boy is with his mother and brother up in heaven, and that she is comforting him, holding him, hugging him. 

But still the image disturbs me, makes me so sad. Why is that? What would you say to a person mourning the loss of a child, I neither knew or ever met? Is this just an oddity in me? My make-up?


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