No, I’m not grateful for night shifts, even though I must admit they did pay pretty well, at the call centre I worked in back in the days.
I lost count of the “things to be grateful for” drafts so far, but tonight I will just publish, whatever road this post decides to take me.
It was an amazing night. With amazing people.
I have been reading and studying and analysing people’s reactions to war and violence for years now, and I never cease to be in awe at the strength and resilience they show.
The humanity that never dies.
The life that screams through them.
The hope that refuses to fade.
And still, when I meet people who have been through all the violence and danger and war and risks, when I hear their stories, their will to go on despite all the evil they faced, despite the pain, the fear, the death around them, I am amazed.
A night out with my young brave Kurdish friend is an experience that left me lost for words.
The struggles she went through, as a Kurd in Syria, as a woman in a war torn Country, as someone living in a besieged city, as a stranger in a Country that is not hers, where she had to face hardship and sneering, and yet she never gave up.
Listening to her story, how she made her escape, the times she feared for her – and her loved ones’ – life, the new version of her she built here, I could not help feeling small, and humbled. Wishing to be more like her, and knowing I will never be.
And grateful for this friendship, that came unexpected, and is one of the greatest gifts this year had in store for me.
Pollyanna Rules 