BY LOIS SHAW, EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR
Refugee Mom, you’ve stood in long dusty lines holding your baby
Wondering if hope happens; worrying about a meal, any meal.
Does this day we celebrate confuse you?
Do you wonder what the fuss is all about, when you have never seen a bouquet of roses
Or gone out to dinner, or received a lovely card?
We do this. We celebrate our mothers. We celebrate you.
Collectively we have seen you on CNN and BBC, waiting for hope
Sometimes losing hope when children do not make it through the night.
Sometimes there is no water
Sometimes your husband is lost or gone.
Know that our tears mingle with yours and flow together in long rivulets
Along the dust, and join with other tears and become a river
And flow more urgently and significantly into the ocean of Mother-ness in which we are all the same.
Refugee Mom, you make us stronger.