A C. T U. A L. L Y

Yesterday, my husband and I volunteered to welcome Ukrainian refugees at Berlin’s Central Station.   We were two of many in our yellow vests with masking tape name tags.   In our 20-minute orientation, we learned that about 80% of those arriving in Berlin have a destination in Europe with friends or family.   For the 20% of refugees without a place to go, we learned that Berlin shelters are now full, but that refugees would be taken by bus to other shelters within Germany, some as far away as Munich. We were advised to jot down the number of an on-site protective service for unaccompanied minors, and we learned where refugees could get something to eat and drink and charge up their phones.   We were shown where those who wished could get a voluntary Covid test, and where mothers could leave their children under supervision while they sorted out transport connections and temporary accommodations.   We were told where the medical tents were set up outside the st...

  Two poems stole my attention away from the war in Ukraine this week, only to rivet it back directly on the wider meaning of that war.   The first was a poem by W.H. Auden called, Musée des Beaux Arts, which was paired with a painting by Pieter Bruegel the Elder titled, Landscape with the Fall of Icarus .   The pairing was published as an interactive essay by Elisa Gabbert called, “ A Poem (and a Painting) About Suffering that Hides in Plain Sight, ” in The New York Times .   Her essay, as well as the poem and the painting, are nothing short of brilliant. First, the painting. Now Auden’s poem. Musée des Beaux Arts by W.H. Auden About suffering they were never wrong, The Old Masters: how well they understood Its human position; how it takes place While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along; How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting For the miraculous birth, there always must be Children who did not spe...