There are stories that are not only read, but felt – stories that pause us and quietly remind us what it truly means to be a child in a world that is not always gentle. Sumea’s story carries exactly that kind of power: honest, personal, and deeply moving. Through her experience of struggle, growing up, and searching for a place where she belongs, the author creates space for understanding, empathy, and hope. Her voice reminds us that a more just world for children is not just an idea, but a reality that begins where acceptance, support, and love exist – even after the most difficult struggles.
Read Sumea’s story and reflect on your own actions and on how each of us can contribute to a world in which no child is excluded, sad, unaccepted, or alone.
“A World Without Borders”
When I close my eyes, I think that this world needs to change. To bring in more rules, more empathy, more child rights, more understanding for children, more care for children. I imagine children running freely across a meadow, their faces lit up with smiles, their hearts filled with joy. Their laughter spreads like light and reminds me that happiness is the purest when a child feels it.
But while I look at that image in my thoughts, I return to my own story – a struggle with illness that often held me back, confining me within boundaries I did not choose. That is precisely why children’s freedom has a special value for me: it is a reminder that life, despite pain, always carries the possibility of joy. When I open my eyes, I see a completely different world. A world in which children have no freedom, in which their laughter is interrupted by the sound of fear. I see images of Gaza, where children are killed without mercy, where their rights do not exist, where their dreams are cut short before they even had the chance to dream. While I imagine a world full of empathy and care, reality reminds me that many children grow up in the shadow of war and pain.
Children’s joy has a special meaning for me, because I did not have a childhood. I was very ill. I was born in August 2008. Four years passed before I became sick. I had a malignant tumor. I spent my childhood in the hospital, looking at white walls and walking through corridors. While others ran freely, I was learning how to be brave, how to endure pain and fear – but I had support, I had my parents, and the association “Heart for Children.” That is why today, when I see children laughing and playing, it is not just an ordinary sight for me – it is a symbol of the freedom I lost, but also of the strength I found. Their happiness reminds me that the world must be a place where children have rights, where their joy is protected as the greatest treasure. Today, I am a grown person who sometimes asks herself: what is life?
When I recovered and enrolled in elementary school, I thought I had found true friends. But no – it was only an illusion. In elementary school, they avoided me, mocked me, made fun of me, and talked behind my back – all because I was sincere and different. I never spoke badly about others and I always had my own, unique opinions about everything. The other children only wanted to benefit from someone like me, but I did not give in, and that is why they avoided me. Especially the girls judged others by their grades, how they dressed, and how they looked. They paid attention to all of that to decide whether to be friends with you. Of course, your grades had to be perfect, while mine ranged from low to excellent. After the battle with illness that I managed to overcome, I then had to survive elementary school and all the teasing and lies. Since childhood, I have wanted to become a physiotherapist, and my dream came true when I enrolled in the Center for Blind and Visually Impaired Children and Youth. Today, I am in my second year of high school. And yes, this is a place of equal rights and opportunities for everyone—a just world just as I have always imagined it for myself and for all children in the world.
If I were to describe my current school as the world I imagine, I would say only the best – for example, that I have a wonderful homeroom teacher and that we are a community of cheerful faces. In my present world – my school – I can freely express everything, have a different opinion, be different without being mocked or rejected, grow, and learn. Such places of safety, warmth, love, and empathy are more just places for children. That is a world without borders.
