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One sunny Saturday morning, I was playing in the street with my friends when I saw a lady and a boy older that myself approach our house, knock the door and enter the house, after a while, the lady left without the boy. When I was called in for lunch, the boy was sitting at the table, which didn’t please me that a stranger should be sitting at OUR table, I was very jealous. However, my Mum introduced him as ‘Pat’ a refugee from London. We didn’t get on very well — he liked to polish all Mum’s brassware and I was resentful of this so we would fall-out as to who was going to clean what. Owing to the fact that he wet the bed, my Mother sent him back, which also ended my duties of cleaning brassware. In retrospect, if I knew then what I learned about refugees, I would have welcomed the boy into our house and treated him like the brother that I always wanted.

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