Where fear becomes quieter and trust grows

They are on the run, have left home, family and safety behind – and yet they find the courage to regain a piece of life every day. Between loss, trauma and uncertainty, young women discover community, hope and dignity – and moments that show them that they are not alone.

We hold hands and walk slowly into the water. “Take a deep breath,” I encourage the young woman. The waves are calm, the sun is blazing, just like every day. Further out, other girls shout: “Come on, you can do it!” They laugh, splash around, hold breath-holding competitions. Step by step, we continue. She holds her breath at every wave. The last time she was in the sea was when she escaped in a rubber boat. Today is the first time she has ventured back into the water. She talks about the icy cold back then, about hunger, about fear for her little brother. When we reach the others, there is clapping and cheering. She doesn’t let go of my hand. “I’m proud of you,” I say – and I mean each of the young women who face life despite trauma and an uncertain future.

After swimming, we sit in a circle. One of the girls asks the question: “Tell us something nice.” She says: “On the escape we had to cross a mountain range. It was hard. But one evening I saw the stars – clear, close, beautiful. How strange that so much beauty can exist in such hardship.” I think about her words for a long time. I feel honored to walk a part of their path with them.

LONGING FOR COMMUNITY AND BELONGING

While war rages in their home country and girls are no longer allowed to go to school, they try to carry on here despite their grief and fear. In our program, we give young refugee women a safe space through art, activities and sports. Their basic needs are often met, but they long for community. Many have no one left. We try to live friendship and a bit of family – celebrating birthdays, visiting them at school or work, showing them: You are not alone. We see you. Jesus sees you.

I always thought God’s kingdom would come with trumpets and power. But perhaps it comes quietly – in small decisions to be faithful, to listen, to share. Working with the young women fills me with gratitude. I cannot completely change their situation, but I can be with them and give them dignity. That’s what my heart beats for.

A story from an SMG employee Simona (name changed), she works with refugee women in the Mediterranean region.