Adona
Pseudonym
for all of the children
and their families
caught in war. |
|
Refugees
Face Misery and Mourning
By BRIAN MURPHY Associated Press Writer
MORINI, Albania (AP) -- The morning arrived gray and menacing. A cold wind blew straight
into the mother's face as she stepped into Albania at first light. She clutched her baby
tighter to her chest
The lullaby she hummed into little Rahime's ear went:
``Rest well, my baby. Nothing can hurt you.创
Lumnie Krasniqi wasn't sure what was wrong. She only knew
the three-week-old girl was very quiet and couldn't stop shivering. She steered her other
two children to her side. They were so tired they clutched at her long skirt. They had
walked 21 miles from Prizren through the night Saturday after Serb police forced them from
their home -- a little cottage with a tomato patch. Now, finally, a chance to rest.
They chose a spot about 50 yards from the border post, where an unending flow of ethnic
Albanians are adding more tears and more tales of misery to the Balkans' latest epic of
hatred. The family sat on a little knoll just above the road. It started to
drizzle. The footfalls of the other refugees passing by sounded like a constant hiss on
the mix of mud and asphalt on the road. A trickle of dirty water in a ditch ran over the
everyday flotsam of the exodus: a child's rubber boot, a headless rag doll, diapers, a
hair clip. Lumnie's two older children -- a 10-year-old girl and 12-year-old boy -- leaned
over her shoulder. ``How磗 the little one?创 the girl asked.
``I don磘 know,创 said Lumnie. ``She磗 too quiet. I wish she would stop shaking.创
Medical teams from relief agencies were just down the
road. Lumnie was too exhausted or bewildered to quickly seek them out. ``She磍l be
OK,创 she said. ``We just need a little rest.创
The baby's shaking became worse. ``Hurry,创 she told her son. ``Try to find something
for a
fire.创 The boy ran around in ever widening circles. ``There磗 no wood.
Everything磗 too wet,创 he shouted back.
``Be still, my little one,创 Lumnie whispered to the baby. ``Please, stop.创
She wrapped her jacket around the baby girl, dressed in a red wool cap and swaddled in
white cloth and a single blue blanket. Lumnie started humming to the child and rocking
back and forth.
``Oh, please stop,创 she begged. ``What磗 wrong?创
Her daughter wrapped her arms around the mother and child trying to shield them from the
wind.
The baby never cried. It never uttered a sound. But it stopped
shivering. The other children ran to get help.
But Rahime was already dead. Doctors later said it was
hypothermia. Lumnie, sitting on a piece of cardboard, hugged the small body for a long
time. She pulled down the little red cap over the baby's ears.
Tractors began to roll away from the border pulling wagons filled with refugees shielded
from the rain by creased and oil-smeared plastic sheets. Their ghostly forms -- warped and
blurred through the plastic -- passed by Lumnie and watched her sit on the wet ground and
hum the lullaby that helped calm her baby during her brief life. |
