Today I was surrounded by small children begging so politely, but so ardently, for winter hats. Not for candy, but for winter hats. I was so glad I could give one to every single one of them. I shared blankets around the fire in the freezing cold with strangers from Syria and Kurdistan. I saw the giant tents with floors of thick gravel where hundreds of men, women, and children will have to sleep tonight in the sub-zero temperatures – with no beds, no mattresses, no insulation, and no heat. I saw the desperation on the faces of grown men asking me for just one blanket. I saw a tiny little girl burst into tears when her new mittens didn’t fit – and when I found her mittens that fit and helped her put them on, I saw such a happy bright smile as she said “thank you” – maybe the only English word she knew. I saw so much grace, politeness, and kindness among people who have been trampled on and treated with an utter lack of humanity. For a few hours, waiting and shivering outside in the bitter cold for the next train to arrive, searching the camp with a Kurdish gentleman for discarded cardboard to put in the fire, I experienced a tiny taste of what these people experience for weeks, months, years. I am glad I can help but I am so angry. Angry at those who have done this, angry at those who have taken advantage of these human beings for their own profit. The corrupt politicians, the war profiteers, and the business men who traffic in human suffering; who terrorize the innocent and then try to label those they have terrorized as terrorists. I am not writing this to write this, I’m writing this because human beings should not be treated this way. And if it stops it will be because we, the civilians of the Earth, did something about it.