“We will look after them”

On looking after each other…

I wanted to share some thoughts…And I wanted to do a bit of a content warning: That these thoughts are about how my children reacted to the fire at the hostel.

There’s been a lot of sadness and pain around, even before this awful tragedy. It’s hard. So hard.

So I guess this is to say - I hope you’re feeling safe and loved wherever you are reading this. And I apologise for typos, I haven’t had a lot of time for reflection today…this week…

Eddie said to me “I am sad about the fire”. We talked about it this morning when my husband came in to wake Hammy and I. His face said something awful had happened before his lips could.

The kids had so many questions: “Did their things all get burnt?” “And the people who died they might be their friends?” “They would have been so scared yeah?” “And they don’t have a home now?” “Do they have clothes?” “Were there kids in the fire?”

And lots of “but why did it happen?”

“How did it happen?”

We explained that those last questions at least, will be asked by those in power, because we need to try to make sure this never happens again….

And then a question I thought I could answer:

“And will the people be looked after?” Ham asked. “Who will look after them?”

And then Eddie said, before I could say anything: “Wellington will look after them eh mum? We will all look after them”.

And he was so sure.

And I was grateful for it.

Grateful that he had so much faith in this city and its people and this country and its people. His home. Because I’ve felt anger too today, anger I have hidden from my children. Desperation too. Despair.

While they were at school it was hard for my husband and I to talk by phone - but we knew there would be more questions and we would need to reassure them.

When he got home Eddie said: “I’m still sad mum”.

And I gave him a hug and then he stood up suddenly and said: “Thats it. I’m doing a fundraiser”.

He opened his Chromebook and started typing. I looked over his shoulder and watched as he started planning.

“Mum where’s the best place to give the money?”

And he asked Ham “do you want to sell some of your books?”

He searched for an email for a nearby community hall he’d visited and tapped out an email -

“hello my name is Eddie and i want to help….”

He asked if he could run a stall on the weekend.

I watched him busy himself and I thought about a quote by Juliet Marillier:

“In all experience, there is something to be learned. In deepest sorrow, wisdom is found. In the well of despair, hope rises.”

Hope rises.

Hope rises.