The Childless Refugee Father
Disaster Response | Print
One of a parent’s greatest responsibilities and privileges is to keep their children safe. Myo was doing just that the day he grabbed his family from their home and began the arduous journey to a refugee camp with nothing but the clothes on their backs.
The journey would be treacherous, but it was a glimmer of hope—hope that you made possible with your generous support.
For years, Myo and his family and community have been persecuted with systematic killing that has become more common than not.
The day Myo claimed that hope for his family began like many others. He headed to the mosque for daily prayers, but was stopped along the way. When he told the soldiers where he was going, they started beating him. When the soldiers’ attention turned briefly to another, Myo was able to get away, proceeding towards the mosque. He didn’t get far before they opened fire on him. He darted into the woods, ran straight home, and got his wife and their two sons.
For seven days, they walked. For seven days, they survived on the hope of a refuge.
At the end of the seventh day, however, Myo arrived at the refugee camp without his two sons. One was killed by the army, the other had been taken away in handcuffs. Myo has still not heard anything from him.
Thanks to you, Myo has a relatively safe place to wait, hope and pray for the return of his children.
Unlike his village that had been under siege and the treacherous road he had traveled, the arduous task of surviving was no longer the imminent threat he had grown accustomed to. Because of the generosity of partners like you, Myo received the emergency supplies that would sustain his body while his heart went about the tragic business of grieving. Access to sanitary, hygienic facilities was no longer an extravagant dream. Basic food supplies and fuel for fires were no longer risky or dangerous acquisitions.
For the first time in years, Myo was able to learn to breathe again. In and out. In and out. In and out…and wait.
Wait for word of his children, his home, any fragment of his former life.
It’s a wait most of us can’t imagine. Myo had done what parents do—removed his children from danger and pointed them towards hope. He could never have known what the journey would bring. Your continued support is critical for Myo’s continued safety.
Your prayers may be the soothing peace his battered heart needs.
Myo has lived through the unthinkable. His new normal is abnormal. With your continued support, perhaps Myo, whose children had been ripped from hands, will feel the unfailing arms of the heavenly Father—comforting, reassuring and utterly unconditional.