Unknown
heroes…
Our first
days… Time to meet with new uncles and aunts for children. They memorize the
faces of who cares the most. Uncle Metin invites us first, his family opened
their house and heart to us for two days. They insisted us to stay more, but we
had to return to our camp life. Information from the neighborhood is taken in mind.
I am like a
fish out of water! I can’t understand what happened. It had been a week since
we came. Children’s coats are not suitable for the weather. Camp official took
me to the second-hand store in the
basement. You can take whatever you want from here. I left children to Mr.
Ahmet for 10 minutes and went to the dusty
basement. I took my phone with me. The rooms in the basement are like one
within the other. The last room is for kids.
It looks
like impossible to organize. Whoever
visits, just comes and disorganizes. New second-hand goods are always being added. I put
my phone one of the shelves and looked for thick
coats. I found one for my older son and one another for my little. A Serbian
origin Muslim woman in the room suddenly left in
a hurry. I checked my phone with a reflex, but it wasn’t there. We were three
people in the room. Now we are two. I asked for my phone to the Syrian woman.
The answer is no. I checked the room, hoping it fell somewhere. It was too late
when I asked Mr. Ahmet to call my phone. The phone was shut down!
Explaining
the situation to the receptionists, I saw the couple took my phone walking
outside. We don’t have search warrant so we cannot do anything as the
receptionist said. It was weekend, we had to go to a police station on weekdays. As we express our astonishment,
the receptionist repeated ‘I am here for three years, I have seen such things. Not surprised at all…’
I cried… The
only communication device I could use in this foreigner country was my cell
phone. Moreover, the thief was a Muslim… I cried and cried and cried… Uncle
Orhan came for visit with his family the next day. They stand ready for every
kind of problem. The problem is not the only
mine, it’s all of ours problem! They
brought me a phone, with a sim card, they don’t use at home. This time, I
smile. I smile and smile and smile. Not because of the new phone, because of
the bound of brotherhood/sisterhood.
In here,
every emigrant after a month becomes an ansar.
In the world of problems, they are eager for being the solution. Everyone
invites others to their houses. Uncle Mehmet and Aunt Halide are always there
for us. Whatever children want, they do
with pleasure…
My older son’s
birthday… Uncle Kenan organized a small
birthday party. Aunt Fadime made a birthday cake and brought to the camp to
celebrate. Uncle Ömer gives money to children every time he visits. Uncle Halil
says it’ll be our sin if we won’t call them for any kind of issue.
Children are
happy. Very happy. Our new relatives are these people. Visits and guests never
end…
Naturally,
we feel the blessing on ourselves.
However, we
all have a giant deep scar in our hearts. Even our breaths are half. Our
brothers, sisters, friends, and families we left. We had to be left…
Every
meeting ends with praying. Emigrants and ansars
never forget the victims, never let to be forgotten.
That’s it…
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