Words & Numbers

I like words a lot more than numbers. 

I feel at home in words.

I can taste, smell, and feel words. 

Numbers, they never tell me the whole story.

4.6 million Syrian refugees 

11.3% of the world's population hungry 

244 schools damaged in Palestine 

38.8% -Trumps wins primary in Illinois 

2 am. 3 am. 

See, Only words can capture infinity. 

Only words can explain fear.

Only words can pronounce hope.

Only words can be powerful, even when they're not there. 

Numbers they, tell of what's present.

Of what meets the eye. Of what can be multiplied. And subtracted. 

Of what can be defined.

Numbers, they label. 

Blood pressure 120/80

Heart rate 95

But he feels dead, inside.

7 doctor visits. 12 stitches. 

But she's grateful, for another day. 

Words, they have this ability. 

To capture what's on the mind. 

To release what's in the heart.

To enrich what's in the soul.  

They tell of stories untold. 

And of generations long ago.

They turn on candles in the dark.

They form prayers out of tears.

Numbers and words they, work together sometimes. 

They paint with different strokes. And speak different tales.

But words, they remain permanent. 

Even after numbers lose their count. 

And if you were to count God's favors, you would never be able to number them.

For numbers cannot grasp, the amount of blessings that, pour and pour into our lives. 

The amount of times we are given second chances. 

The amount of times that we breathe.

Inhales. Exhales. Sighs and Reliefs.

Numbers will tell you how many. Words will tell you who. Numbers will tell you if you passed. Words will remind you, you are more than that. 

Numbers will say it's 5 words total.

Words will say: You Can Change The World

Numbers will say, that's not accurate.

Words will say, read between the lines. 

Real Tears of Joy

Tears streamed down his face as he slipped on the new pair of shoes he was handed. One foot in his old, torn shoe and one foot now in a new, black and shiny dress shoe. I had never seen tears of joy so real before. I looked at his old tattered shoe he was still wearing on his left foot—ripped at the edges with mud on the sides. I could tell they had been through so much. I could tell he had been through so much. How I wished I could be in his shoes instead of only being able to hand him new ones. How I wished I could fill the emptiness in his soul as he placed the soles of his feet into their new home. His home, though, he can’t call it a home anymore. He is a Syrian refugee now living in Turkey. I had the honor of teaching children like him during the summer this year. I noticed though that his tears were not filled with the woes of past misfortunes. They were filled with hope for a new journey. And he did not need more than one pair for that. I learned a lot from this boy. True blessings are not the materialistic things we adorn, but the feelings of gratitude that touch our hearts when we remember how much we have been given. Walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. Count your blessings. Clichés that become so real when you see real tears of joy.

In Nizip, Turkey Summer Camp for Syrian Refugees