Without a Word
Visiting a Refugee Hospital in Mae Sot was an experience unlike any other. To describe it is difficult, so I hope this story helps to explain what we saw and felt there today.
Passing by the children’s section, a little boy came out onto the step, smiling shyly at us. The flip screen on the video camera was turned around so he could see himself. He laughed, moving in closer to look at his face on the screen.
A few moments later, a woman came out from the building and smiled at us. Without a word, she sat down and pulled the little boy close to her as she turned him around so his back faced us. She looked up at us silently as she pulled his shirt up to his neck.
The boy’s legs and buttocks were covered in bruises and huge scars ran across his shoulder and back. The boy couldn’t have been more than 4 years old. He wriggled a little and tried to move away, but she held him there gently.
The woman looked at each of us with a quiet calm in her eyes. A quiet plea to do what we could to help.
A lot of us felt awkward and out of place when we first got to the Refugee Hospital. We felt we couldn’t take pictures or film.
But this woman made it very clear to us that they understood why we were there, all without a word.
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