14/10/2024
Being someone who rarely shares online, I often feel guilty for not speaking out about the atrocities of war and climate breakdown. I know raising awareness matters, but since I don’t typically use social media to raise my voice, it doesn’t come naturally.
Since I don’t share much, it’s not widely known that I write content and newsletters for . We don’t shy away from talking about war, violence, and displacement. The past 12 months have been been pretty raw and heavy to write. This week’s letter was one of the hardest, after seeing images beyond nightmares.
Abi from is an incredible leader, guiding me through all of this. I take notes and desperately hope to capture her vision with my words. I’m not a professional copywriter, but sometimes these letters feel like my proudest work—especially when people respond, letting us know I’ve expressed exactly how they’ve been feeling. It’s a small thing, but in moments like this, what else can we do? Writing to my MP hasn’t changed much, so I try to speak to thousands of people, expressing the fear and hopelessness these horrors bring.
The newsletters aren’t just about selling pieces made by displaced people (though, yes, we do need to raise funds for trauma support, education, and skills training). They’re about bringing comfort and purpose to a community that genuinely cares—something Abi and the team have built over the past decade. Today, someone wrote to tell us that holding a Love Welcomes hand-carved olivewood heart was the only thing they felt they could do. It was a symbol for them. That hit home.
Through Love Welcomes, funds are going to those who need them most, but comfort is being found even when it feels like we’re screaming into a void.
If you’d like to receive the newsletters, you can sign up at lovewelcomes.org—where you can also purchase an olive heart. And If you’re looking for Christmas gifts that do good, it’s a great place to start.
