I’m so sorry.

I’m sorry that I’m part of a country that chooses to drop bombs of your country. I’m sorry that there are people living in your country who choose to inflict terror on the rest of the world so that we choose to fight back in the only way we know how. Most of us don’t realise that we’re terrorising you in the process.

I’m sorry that you were hurt that day. That you were scared. That you were alone. No little boy should ever have to be alone when he’s scared. I don’t know what happened to your mummy or if you’re back with her safely now, but I know that when you were scared and on your own, she would have wanted nothing more than to be there with you, because mummy’s are the same whether they’re Syrian or British.

I wonder what you were doing when that bomb hit. Were you sitting quietly playing? Perhaps you have a little train set like my son, he can sit for hours just pushing the train around the track. Or perhaps you were climbing and jumping around with your brothers and sisters, just being a kid. I hope that you get to still be a kid after all this. I hope you won’t be robbed of your childhood because of this.

I promise that because of you I will hold my little boy a bit tighter in the morning. I promise I’ll raise him to have compassion for others whether they speak the same language or not. I promise to try to inspire him to make the world a better place. I promise to make him realise how lucky he is to have been born here, in Britain.

Mostly I promise that the image of you frightened and alone in the back of an ambulance at just 5 years old the victim of an attack, it’s only  purpose to hurt people, will never leave me. If I could hug you now I would.

I hope you find your mummy.

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