The tragic truth is that in some way, the children who are educated by the few NGO’s working in the camps are the lucky ones, there are many, many children there who receive no education at all, there are many that never make it that far.
One of the most humbling things I witnessed in Lebanon was that these children and families are deeply grateful for the painfully little they receive; regardless of the struggle they have experienced and continue to experience every day.
I hope if that life ever became a reality for me that I would somehow find the strength to demonstrate such gratitude and grace, but standing in my place of privilege I have no business casting opinion on how anyone should feel.
Why do we expect gratitude from those in situations we can barely imagine? In circumstances I don’t believe we would ever expect ourselves to feel grateful for, were we to suffer the same misfortune?
My guess is that maybe somewhere inside it serves to comfort us. If we can focus on ‘the lucky ones’, focus on the people who try to help them, it softens our discomfort. It blurs the harsh, painful reality that people; human beings just like us; innocent, beautiful children; men and women fighting for their lives and futures, are living in such severe poverty, ignored by society, whilst we live in comfort.