This was originally posted on iactivism.org by Felicia Lee.
Once upon a time, there lived a little boy named Rami. He was a happy, rambunctious, and talkative child. He lived with his mother, father, and seven siblings in a clean and peaceful home filled with love. Rami was nearly four years old; he could sing songs that he learned at his preschool, and he liked entertaining himself for long periods of time with just his imagination. The first one to rise every morning, he would try to wake everyone else up, too, especially his father.
“Are you still sleeping?”
“Okay. Wake up!”
Rami loved playing with his older sisters and brothers. One day, three people, speaking a different language than what he was used to, came and visited his home. He’d seen them before, walking around the neighborhood with his father and talking to the teachers at the beautiful school people called “Little Ripples.” He’d even seen them at his brother’s soccer academy, sometimes wearing the same shirts as his brother’s coaches!
It was always fun when his family had visitors. His mother would bring out tea, candy, nuts, and perfume, and Rami would make sure to help eat most of the candy. This time his mother served chewy toffees wrapped in colorful paper. These visitors asked a lot of questions, and Rami was good at listening to his siblings’ answers.
“I want to finish my education and work in politics,” said one of his sisters.
“I want to be a pilot,” said another sister.
“I want to travel around the world and help people,” said one of his brothers.
Rami didn’t know yet what he wanted to be when he was older, but he sure did like the toffees.
The three people stayed a long time. A friend of Rami’s brother said he liked to play music for fun, and he and his brother put on an impromptu drumming show, using those cans his mother got cooking oil from. His sisters joined in, too, getting up and dancing to the beat! Rami sat laughing with his mother as the two of them clapped along.
One of the best parts of the visit was when the guests folded paper airplanes with everyone. Rami got his own plane, and he and the other children had paper airplane races to see whose could fly the farthest. His wasn’t exactly the quickest, but it did fly up onto the roof! One of the visitors looked worried, but Rami knew what to do. With his father’s help, he climbed up on top of the roof and glided the plane back down. Problem solved!
Eventually, a car came to pick up the visitors, and Rami had to say good-bye. It was time to lie down for awhile—at least, that’s what his mother seemed to think. Anyway, it was probably a good idea to get some rest before getting up and playing again, maybe this time with some friends from around his refugee camp. All his friends lived in the same camp he did. After all, it was the only home Rami had ever known.
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