I opened my door – and my heart…
Karina Litvack has provided a home for over 30 refugees at a time when they needed it most…
‘Come in,’ I smiled, stepping out of the way to let the young man inside. Basel, just 23 at the time, followed me through the house to the kitchen.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ I asked him. As he placed down his bag and looked around, I could see he was a bundle of nerves. No wonder, considering what he’d been through.
Basel was a mathematics student from Syria who was hoping to become a doctor. But all young men there were required to serve in either the army or a militia. A terrifying prospect. That was why he’d undertaken the perilous journey to the UK. To safety.
He was unable to speak English so, that first day, I had my youngest daughter Gabriela, now 30, on Skype to act as translator. She’d volunteered with refugees in Lebanon during university, teaching them French to get scholarships to continue their education. After she’d graduated, she returned to help Syrian people organise their applications for resettlement.
I learnt a lot from what Gabriela was doing. All four of my grandparents were Jewish and had been forced to flee their homes in the early 1900s. One set found safety in Canada, the second went to France just before WWII. I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for an elderly French woman who had hidden my grandparents and mother through the second half of the war.
I worked with companies on climate change and sustainability and, ever since Gabriela and her two sisters had moved out, I had three spare bedrooms in my house…
So when I read about a woman using her spare rooms to house refugees through a charity called refugeesathome.org, I registered my details.
A week later, I received a call. ‘ We have a match for you,’ a voice said brightly.
‘I think we might have a refugee coming to stay…’ I said slowly to my husband, Cliff, 64. I hadn’t told him as I wasn’t sure I’d get a response.
‘That sounds good,’ he replied. ‘How long for?’
I signed up for six weeks, but it turned out to be a lot longer…
After undergoing an interview and inspection by the charity, Basel came to us in May 2017 and is still with us now. He’s a true part of the family, the son I never had.
My heart went out to him when he first moved in – and to his mum, who’d had to endure her son first disappearing, then finding out he was still alive, after the anxiety of his journey.
Basel was quiet, anxious... For so long, he’d gone to bed not knowing what he’d wake up to.
‘You’ll always be safe here,’ I told him. We became so close that when he offered to move out after a month or so, I insisted he stayed. I even moved him out of the guest bedroom to Gabriela’s old room – with her permission, of course.
‘ You’re in danger of losing your position as my spoilt youngest child,’ I joked with her.
‘I’ve had many of years of that!’ she replied. ‘He needs it more than I do.’
He did. Basel struggled to learn English and having to re-do his secondary school qualifications as his Syrian ones weren’t recognised here.
‘If I was at home, I’d be a doctor, married with three children, now,’ he told me, despondently.
‘But look how far you’ve come,’ I reminded him gently. ‘You’ve been so brave and clever and resilient just to get here. They aren’t things that necessarily translate on to a CV but they’ll stand you in good stead.’
They did. After three years, his English was far better and he’d completed his qualifications to get into university. We examined various courses until he decided upon Computer Science.
On his first day, I was waiting anxiously for him to come until…
‘I love it!’ he beamed. I felt just as thrilled as he looked!
‘Basel has been with you for a while now,’ a woman from the charity remarked after a year. ‘Most people would have housed six or seven others in that time.’
That got me thinking. After all, I did have another two free bedrooms… After checking with my older girls, 34 and 32, that they were OK with me using their old rooms
– and getting a resounding yes – I agreed to take in more refugees.
Now, I’ve lost count of the people we’ve housed over the years. Some people have just stayed for a weekend, others up to a year-and-a-half.
‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned’ ‘When you see sad news on the TV, there are always ways to make a difference.’
‘I’ve lost count of the people we’ve housed’
One woman and her family ended up with us when she came from Syria on an artist’s visa and claimed asylum. She’d been desperately sad to be parted from her husband and children but after two years, they were also granted visas and came to join her – and us.
As they all politely pushed their spaghetti Bolognese around their plates on their first night, I realised our culinary tastes may vary more than I’d thought.
‘ Why don’t you make dinner tomorrow?’ I offered. She nodded enthusiastically and from then on, she took over my kitchen! And the sight of her kids wolfing down their mum’s cooking again was wonderful.
Another man we housed was devastated to be separated from his son for two years but recently, he has been reunited with his wife and child and, after staying with us for a few weeks, they got a flat of their own. Luckily, it’s close by –
I go to visit and he still pops by regularly.
I’m 58 now and I can genuinely say opening up my house to refugees has enriched my life in ways I never thought possible. Of course, there are sad and difficult times, times when watching the burden of grief and trauma these people carry around with them seemed overwhelming.
But hearing their stories and watching them build their lives back up again and put their skills and talents to use in our society really gives you faith.
Some people ask if I ever worry about inviting strangers into my house, or that they may turn out to be a terrorist. I explain to them that they’re people, just like us. Just like my family were, in World War II. ‘The only thing I have to worry about is them breaking my favourite vase,’ I’ll tell them.
When people hear what I’ve done, they say how kind and generous I am but with the joy and friendship I’ve received, I know that I am the one who has gained the most from it.
● For more info, visit refugeesathome.org