Damascus, Syria
May 17, 2009
I said laughingly to Josh “You have a shadow.” When he wasn’t chasing after the frisbee, 5 year old Mustafa kept taking his hand. It was such a sweet gesture.
Mustafa and Josh
I met Josh a few days ago over tea. He had contacted me by email, asking if we could get together. Not only do we know many of the same people in the peace movement, but I felt an instant kinship with this gentle yet intense young man from Oregon. Josh has spent a good deal of time in Palestine over the last years, and is currently continuing his Arabic study in Damascus. We spoke of many things, and by chance I mentioned a dear Iraqi family I had been just been with.
Last October an Iraqi man took me to meet the refugee family, a mother from Baghdad with four young children. Mustafa, the second to youngest has “Failure to Thrive” syndrome. He was four years old then, but smaller than his three year old sister. His mother’s relentless efforts to find the cause for her son’s failure to grow, his hair loss and weakness paid off. Getting the necessary daily growth hormone injections for Mustafa has been a constant struggle, as each injection is costly. The change in Mustafa in the seven months since I’d seen him was astounding. He has almost caught up to his sister in height. His mother told me “I am better because my son is better.” You can imagine my surprise when Josh told me that he, like Mustafa, has the same rare condition. He has taken daily injections since he was two years old.
Yesterday Josh and I arranged to meet the family in a park. The mother and I sat on the green grass talking and watching Josh and the children romping around and tossing the frisbee to and fro. In the words of one of my own brothers who has lived with MS for years, I thought to myself “It doesn’t get much better than this.” My brother Chris has said this more than once while watching his own children playing in a beautiful natural setting.
Josh & Mustafa
Mustafa’s mother has been blessed with a spirit of gratitude and a creative mind that is striking. She has recently written a little children’s book, a story inspired by her grandmother still living in Baghdad. Her eyes fill with tears as she speaks of her grandmother. The story is about a horse with hidden wings. Josh has agreed to try his hand at translating it into English. The mother wants to dedicate it to the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) in thanks for all they have done for so many around the world. She wants to use her gifts, to give back. “We are not just a taking people” she said to me with heartfelt conviction, “We’re also a giving people.”
The mother and children have not yet been accepted for resettlement by the UNHCR. Should they be accepted, there are 60,000 “cases” of Iraqis in line ahead of them. Although the obstacles for this family to resettle seem insurmountable, who knows where this newly formed friendship between Josh and Mustafa will lead? We must keep trying to make connections, drawing courage and inspiration from families like these.
The mother and children have not yet been accepted for resettlement by the UNHCR. Should they be accepted, there are 60,000 “cases” of Iraqis in line ahead of them. Although the obstacles for this family to resettle seem insurmountable, who knows where this newly formed friendship between Josh and Mustafa will lead? We must keep trying to make connections, drawing courage and inspiration from families like these.
The mother and children have not yet been accepted for resettlement by the UNHCR. Should they be accepted, there are 60,000 “cases” of Iraqis in line ahead of them. Although the obstacles for this family to resettle seem insurmountable, who knows where this newly formed friendship between Josh and Mustafa will lead? We must keep trying to make connections, drawing courage and inspiration from families like these.
