THE CAPTIVE AND THE COMMANDER We’d walked to the hospital to visit our daughter-in-law and meet our newborn grandson for the first time. After navigating our way to the maternity ward, the staff admitted us behind locked doors, and we entered the safe environment. My daughter-in-law held out her newly born son, and I cradled him in my arms. He opened his eyes and stared at me, my ‘Nanna’ voice strange to his tiny ears. I marveled at his long fingers and ten toes, perfectly formed in his mother’s womb. He whimpered. I cuddled him close, and he settled, but I suspected he was hungry. After a feed, he fell asleep in his grandpa’s arms. Our vulnerable newborn grandson trusted us and everyone around him to keep him safe. The maternity ward was his haven in a big, wide world, where he could begin his life journey. An Israeli girl lived in Southern Syria. Wrenched from her family and her country, she was a slave of Naaman, the commander of the king of...