We have received a letter that was written at a school event by an eight year old Chechen child who lives with his disabled brother and sick mother at a refugee center somewhere in Europe.

Here it is:

Dear Santa Claus!

Where are you? I have written to you again and again, but you never give me an answer! Maybe you don’t know my homeland, or maybe you can’t see it because too much blood has covered it.

I want to find my father, I saw him for the last time when he was taken away by Russian soldiers years ago!

I want a leg for my elder brother who lost it due to a land mine, so he can run again like other children and he can go wherever he wants!

I want a smile for my mother, I cannot remember when I saw her last smile!

And for myself, I want a real house and a country, and also if you can give me back my childhood and if I can see all my friends who were left somewhere and have not returned!

I know, perhaps I ask for too much, but I swear to you that I was really a good boy last year. We are going to spend another Christmas alone, sad and be shattered by death. Please don’t forget us, as we will wait for you as we have in previous years. Yes, I know we don’t have a fireplace, or even a real house with an address I could give you; but we live in a refugee center and if you ask for our room, a social worker will show you to it.

You need to come this year, before it’s too late, before I cannot wait for you anymore. Will you come this year?

At least give me an answer!

Said A.

8 years Chechen refugee child somewhere in Europe

*Text was translated by Waynakh Online and edited by Michael Capobianco