Stopping on a red light while driving in the streets of Damascus, the
sight of barefoot, skinny and dirty children moving between cars and
begging for money, food  or anything else is becoming painfully
frequent in the city.
While you look at their sad, sun-burned faces, you can't stop
wondering where do they spend their nights, and what will happen to
them in few weeks from now when it rains. Answers are equally sad,
most of these children live with their parents in public gardens, or
sometimes, simply on sidewalks. Marjeh Square, a historical site in
Damascus, and traditionally its city center, recently became an open
shelter for a number of families who left their destroyed houses in
the poor suburbs surrounding the Syrian capital.

The war in Syria left hundreds of thousands of people homeless.
Stories of refugees seeking shelter in schools, mosques and public
gardens became a daily life issue. In a wedding hall in Al-Tal, a
northern suburb of Damascus, a bed sheet is used to divide the hall
into two parts; one for men and another for women and children. Mostly
from Homs, I'm afraid to ask what became of them when the town  was
bombed, then break into on the evening of Eid-Al-Fitr day by
government forces.
Back to the traffic light, it becomes finally green and you drive your
way to your  destination, maybe feeling happy because there are more
traffic lights on your way. But the image of these miserable young
children will haunt you most of the day, and the next morning ... you
have a date with the same red light.

O.D