I volunteered in lesbos in a refugee camp, helping families (often children) escaping Syria.
They were cold, wet, sometimes hypothermic. Always grateful- grateful to be sleeping in a disgusting, unsanitary tent, in a muddy field.
I couldn't imagine the horror they were escaping- it must have been so awful that they felt it was safer to risk their lives on an overcrowded boat.
I'll never forget their faces- the heavily pregnant woman I met- the kids playing with balloons so unaware of what lied ahead...the man who told me he was an engineer and how much he loved his life in Syria. The pain in his eyes. How much they were losing- how much they'd already lost.
It would break my heart to come back from a night shift, after seeing hundreds of life jackets washed ashore thinking of those who hadn't made it. To switch off, I would go on my phone, open an online news outlet - and be horrified at how much the media had misrepresented the situation out there. User comments on articles would read "they'll take our jobs", or "it's not our problem".
If you had no home, were in grave danger, had children to look after, what would you do? Your only hope would be the help of others. Turning your head and saying it's not our problem is just inconceivable