I could hear my uncle was struggling not to get worked up. He said it wasn’t our job to get mixed up in this. The Syrians had to sort it out themselves, in their own way. Then the line was cut, and his words were left hanging in the air around me. I’d already experienced how useless you can feel. What if it was wrong for those of us from outside to interfere? But at the same time, I felt a responsibility. Not just toward Syria, but toward God, you understand?
