I had a running post ready to go live this weekend.
But, like many other bloggers have found, writing about everyday experiences suddenly seems so very trivial and crass in light of the humanitarian disaster that is unfolding before us.
I too have been left shocked, speechless and saddened over the past few months, as I have watched the growing refugee crisis unfold.
But it took the image of a small boy’s body washed up on the beach to truly open my eyes.
A small body that looked very much the same size as my own soon-to-be-three year old.
Yet amidst the heartbreaking photographs of sinking, overcrowded boats, desperate parents and drowned children, I have seen the odd comment:
‘Yes it’s awful, but shouldn’t we be doing what we can to look after our own first?’
Thankfully, these have been very few and far between, hidden among many thousands of pledges of help and support. But still. I find this such an odd, cold comment.
So I simply wanted to use this blog post to say this:
I can pretty much guarantee that the people who have responded to the refugee crisis in such a generous and proactive way are probably the very same people who already do generous and proactive things to help ‘our own’ – things like donating to food banks, volunteering at local youth centres, helping out at dementia cafés, and donating time and money to UK charities.
Because you see, generosity of spirit doesn’t have a limit.
Compassion doesn’t simply stop when it hits a border: it overflows.
This is a humanitarian crisis.
We are all human.
There is no more ‘us’ and ‘them’.
We all need to look beyond borders and show a little more love, care and compassion.
Because hate isn’t getting us very far, is it?
Through the tears, one thing has become clear in my mind: I now know what my marathon effort will be in aid of next April.