My most memorable refugee encounter happened quite by chance on a train. I was sitting next to a woman of North African appeaance who was reading a book - mutering semi aundibly as if she was praying or learning something by heart. Being the sticky beak I am, I peeked over her shoulder and saw that it was obviously a copy of the Koran.
It was written in both Arabic and English - on facing page - so I was able to follow what she was reading - it was a passage talking about families and the duties of family members towards each other. When she saw me reading I smiled at her and remarked how similar the language and wisdom sounded to my own bible.
We then got into a conversation about families - her husband was dead, she didn't say how, and she had come to Australia as a refugee with her children. We agreed how hard it was bringing up kids - especially when they hit their teens - and what a different world our children lived in compared to the one in which we had been raised.
When we both got out at the end of the line and went our separate ways I told her I hoped her God would bless her family and give them all a happy life in Australia. She gave me a big smile. I often think about her and hope things have turned out well for her.
