My heart hurts and I feel worried, even scared at what the people and children of Syria are going through. When you’re not in a good place but you care so very deeply, with a big and heavy heart it’s hard to balance what you can do with what you want to do. I don’t know what I can do to help because I’m currently attempting to keep a roof over mine and my son’s head. A Facebook friend recently posted showing their text to Oxfam donating four euro. In their post about the text, was an appeal for others to text a donation with a confident statement that everyone has four euro to spare. It hurts to say it but no actually, we don’t all have four euro spare. I know I don’t. I had felt an indescribable fear before seeing that post, a fear for the Syrian refugees and I care overwhelmingly for their safety. But my reality in the midst of my first world privilege, is that I currently have eleven euro in my account to keep me and my son fed or warm for the next week. In fact, I’ve had to transfer the eleven euro out of my overdrawn account in case any direct debits remove that few euro I’m able to use. Let me just say that austerity bites.
I’m scared because of the situation our government has put many of us in. I’m scared for the Syrian’s who are depending on the support, help and assistance that they so desperately need and most definitely support they at the very least deserve, as human beings. Continue reading “Seeking Refuge”
When I experienced bringing a life into this world, I had never felt so vulnerable and raw yet instinctively protective. Like a wounded lioness watching her cub and ready to pounce on anything threatening, regardless of the weak state I was in. It is for me without a shadow of a doubt, the most powerful, all consuming, unconditional form of love imaginable. Along with the overwhelming instinct to protect this life placed in my hands, the weight of responsibility landed with an extraordinarily heavy thud onto my conscience as well as my heart.
You hold a life in your hands and why shouldn’t this life be one that is capable of having an impact in this world? Manners, morals, and principals became priority in raising my new-born son to be a man, what I hope to be a wonderfully good man one day. Continue reading “A Mother’s Plea For Equality”
There once were two pumpkins, in a land that is Ireland long, long ago (11 months ago to be exact)….
Two pumpkins were rescued from the trappings of a crate in a local fruit and veg shop and their souls pined to be released on time for the awesome festival that is known as Halloween! They were crying out for someone to save them so I grabbed my bicycle and raced as fast as I could to retrieve them from the prying eyes of the giddy children preparing to Trick or Treat. The excited pair of pumpkins tossed and turned in the sack that hung from my handlebars until finally they took rest in my humble abode….
They were glowing with relief but they still couldn’t breathe so I intervened with my knife and carving tools to release their souls and give them new life! First came little Patch, he was the cutest little pumpkin ever to be seen!
He was so happy, he grinned gleefully and was full of joy having finally been released from the disguise of his hard orange shell. He waited patiently to meet his compadre who had been by his side throughout the journey to freedom. Little Patch was in for a shock though, his compadre wasn’t keen to be friendly! Having gurgled and spat his way through being carved, Charlie winced as his guts were pulled from inside and cried out to be fed as soon as he was unveiled from behind the shield that was his orange peel skin! The second pumpkin had exploded into existence with a menacing GROWL…. Continue reading “A Tale of Two Pumpkins”