Little Angela Merkel Al Ali

The first school I went to was a Christian school, it was called The Rainbow. I have fond memories of the place, I felt safe and happy there.

Everyday started and ended with a prayer. Miss Janet was my teacher for the first two years. She was a very kind woman, and practical too. Before the day ended, she would get all of us wrapped in our winter gear – hats and mittens included – and only then was the moment to pray at the end of the day. But the thing was: with the mittens on, we could not properly fold our hands. According to miss Janet it would be alright if we just held both hands together.
A year and a half ago, I wrote about what a sad summer it was in 2014. For this year I can only say that it has been a very sad year. First and foremost Paris comes to mind, but the next moment I am overwhelmed by the remembrance of the toddler washing up at a shore in Turkey in September. I shall not start a list with the sorrow of 2015, it would be an endless one.
Last week I read in the newspaper about a Syrian couple in Germany. These fugitives called their newborn baby girl Angela Merkel Al Ali. This made me smile. I can only hope that Little Angela Merkel Al Ali will be happy and safe at the school she goes to in a few years, oblivious to the outside world (which is probably still a mess by then).
And let her, when she grows older (like we do) cherish her childhood memories.


Wishing you all the best for the New Year, Fleur


This post is also available in: Dutch

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