One thing I have realized in my travels throughout my life is, no matter what part of the world I visit, it is that children are simply children. They are virtually all the same. The difference being geography and living conditions. But kids want to learn and they want to play. It is usually how they learn and what they are being taught as they grow older that starts to separate and divide them. The children I met on this trip were no different than the young boys and girls I know back home. They have the same curious looks on their faces and for the most part they are trying to adapt to their surroundings. Many of them were so young when they were forced to leave Syria that they don’t remember anything other than living in these poor conditions inside of a camp. This all that they know. There are others though who absolutely remember what it was like to grow up in Syria and they talk about how they miss it. They told me about friends that they lost. About bombings and a different kind of being afraid of the dark. The kind where you try to fall asleep at night not knowing whether you might wake up the next day because your house could topple over you. These children couldn’t possibly comprehend why they were forced to flee. They just know that there was no other choice.