A reflection by Confluence Year member Nicole Hamme
It’s hard to believe, but it’s already approaching the two-month anniversary of my new job with the Community Refugee and Immigration Services. Although I don’t get to work with them as much as I’d like, the refugee children have especially unlocked a new place in my heart. Their selflessness and bravery for entering a new, uncharted territory with their families in hopes of a better life free from war and violence astonishes me. They have said goodbye to an old life and one might associate this experience as something wounding, but their smiles hardly show it.
Below is a poem I wrote while driving a newly arrived Somalian family to their doctor appointment. The youngest son, just shy of four years old, was beaming with happiness as we drove through Columbus, pointing out the buildings and admiring his new world with wonder. His happiness was so contagious, it left an imprint on me for the rest of the day.
￼￼￼￼he’s yet to know the fragility of the human heart,
and I pray he’ll never have to, for his father, and sisters and sweet grandmother who smells of honey and spice, will stitch