I cried in Jordan for the first time today.
I cried because I was saying goodbye to the sweetest Syrian children.
Nobody noticed my repressed tears this morning, but I want everyone to know that my heart still bleeds for them and cries to see them again.
These refugees had a slightly different story than the ones I interviewed previously. They had fled Syria and spent days in the desert. This was extremely hard on the six children. I remember the oldest girl whispering bashfully to her mother to tell the translator that there were no bathrooms in the desert.
The mom led her children in this trip on her own. The father was killed in a war so she alone is left. She does, however, have the help of her neighbors. The neighbor children were at the house when we arrived. It was impossible to tell who actually belonged to the family because they played so seamlessly together. In the middle of the visit, a sleeping baby was brought in, carrier and all. I didn’t understand until later that it was the neighbor’s baby who had simply been brought over for a visit.
The children just oozed sweetness. At first, they were quiet and didn’t speak to us except to introduce themselves and shake our hands. Then, Maddie gave them toys, I showed them how to use a bubble wand, and all the walls broke down. The quiet children became joyous and open.
They expressed their joy by numerous kisses and hugs. While they spoke very little English, they still knew enough to say, “I love you,” which they said to us many times. The oldest girl clung to me and kissed my cheek respectively. Amazingly enough, she knew how to spell “love” in English which she wrote on my hand along with the first letter of my name She followed me outside where I taught her how a Frisbee worked. I also picked all the kids up and spun them around. They loved it because they had probably never experienced anything like it before.
Chaos ensued when I took my hair down. While I’m sure they had seen long hair before, they may never have seen it in this color. They delighted in braiding and brushing and tangling my hair to no end. Even though it was a logistical nightmare to fix my hair, seeing such joy on their faces was a blessing.
If saying hello was a joy, then saying goodbye was heart shattering.
The little girl clung to me and wouldn’t let go, using what little English she knew to tell me to stay. The featured image is the girl and two of her brothers waving goodbye from the top of the steep steps to their apartment.
I will never forget them and I hope they always remember me.
Traveling With Hannah 