Children of the Smoke and Hunger

Children of the Smoke and Hunger
Three small figures huddle around a pot, their faces marked by innocence yet shadowed with sorrow. Their clothes hang in tatters, their hands are frail, and their eyes carry stories far heavier than their years.
One child bends down eagerly, as if the pot might reveal a feast. But inside, there is nothing — only smoke rising like unanswered prayers. Another clutches a small piece of bread with both hands, guarding it like treasure more valuable than gold. The third, silent and withdrawn, stares at the ground, lost in thoughts no child should ever have.
Where is their playground? Where is their school? The world has robbed them of toys, laughter, and comfort, leaving only survival.
And yet, even in this moment of hunger, there is closeness. In their patience, there is strength. In their love for one another, there is hope. But the ache in their bellies is a cry that rises beyond the streets — a cry that should shake the conscience of the world.
No child should ever go to bed hungry. Yet here they are, waiting for a miracle that may never come unless hearts are moved and hands take action.
Their image is not only a portrait of suffering but also a call to responsibility. It is a reminder that dignity belongs to every child — that food, warmth, and safety are not luxuries but rights.
Let their story pierce our hearts. Let it awaken compassion, generosity, and justice. For in answering their cry, we restore not only their tomorrow but also our shared humanity.