This little happy boy I met on the Greek Island of Leros in November.
Together with his grandparents and his sister he was just sitting there in the refugeecamp smiling with his two teeth. They were fleeing the war in Iraq.
First he made it all the way through Turkey. Then he survived the dangerous voyage in a small robberboat across the Aegansea together with 50 other refugees, and then he landed in the middle of the night on the military Island of Farmakonisi.
The Greek military was slow, they did not come to pick him up, and he had to stay on Farmakonisi for several days together with 500 other refugees. All the time more and more people landed on the Island and in the end it got quite crowded with refugees on the rocks, and it was freezing cold in the night. The soldiers on the Farmakonisi gave him a packet of biscuits every day to eat and some water, and he survived, though he in between was crying of hunger.

After three days of waiting, sleeping on the rocks a big militaryship came and picked up him and his family and all the other refugees in order to bring them to Leros. His grandpa had his stiff leg, and he was a bit slow entering the ship on the steep landing, so the soldiers shouted at him, and lifted the gun, as if they wanted to hit him.
Everybody were scared. Nobody bothered to tell them, where they were going, but luckily he was too young to feel the fear of the unknown.
On Leros he arrived in the refugeecamp – an old school and here he lived on a blanket in the schoolyard together with his grandpa and his beloved teapot for five days, before they were able to continue their journey.

This was before Europe closed its borders for the refugees. I wonder where this little boy is today?