The Key


Before I left my home in Homs I made sure to clean it and tidy it up; so two or three days later when we come back we would find it clean. I locked the door and put the key in my handbag. We went to Damascus at first, and ended up staying there for 8 months. My children blamed me every day for leaving their toys and things behind, but I used to tell them: “Don’t worry, when we go back you will find them exactly where we had left them.” One day while we were watching the news we heard that our area was being bombed, and cameras were there broadcasting what was going on. All of a sudden we see it, our house right there on T.V., completely destroyed. It was a painful shock, we all cried over the loss of our home, and my children cried over losing all their things. They realized they will never be able to see them again. Then my youngest son came up to me and said: “Mom, do you still have the keys?”

I told him, “Yes, why?”

“Keep it, it’s all we have left of our home.”



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Filed under Return and Resettlement, Shelter

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