Editor's pick
Change
Hospitality
Trust
4 min read

The toy blocks building trust, love and understanding

There’s a beautiful kind of hospitality, and this is it.

Belle is the staff writer at Seen & Unseen and co-host of its Re-enchanting podcast.

A baby plays with wooden toys on a carpert.
Photo by Troy T on Unsplash.

The leftovers were being gathered up, chairs being put back in their place, and happy looking people were dispersing. The last child there, his mum helping to wrap things up in the kitchen, was clinging onto a toy that I, in my imagination, like to think he makes a B-line for every time he spots it. It was an ordinary scene, but there was something undeniably extraordinary underpinning it.  

Although it’s hard to articulate with words (which is admittedly not ideal when the objective of the visit was to write about it), it was immediately clear to me, I had walked right into the aftermath of something truly special. I sat down with Joey and Sarah, two of the Growbaby team, to figure out what it was.   

Growbaby is an international children’s supply charity, providing clothing, equipment and everyday essentials for children up to five years old. Launched in 2003 and rooted in a local Vineyard church in Kingston Upon Thames, there are now multiple Growbaby hubs, one of which just happens to be at the end of my road in Cardiff. What started as a cupboard crammed with donated supplies is now a source of wholistic support for over one hundred families.  

As requests flow into Growbaby HQ, packages are lovingly compiled and then freely given. These packages are put together on a case-by-case basis and can include anything from nappies to pushchairs, clothes to cots, formula to toys. Such support doesn’t tend to be offered from a distance, on the contrary, every Friday morning families (mothers and little ones, primarily) are welcomed to ‘stay and play’, and to subsequently receive the kind of support that can’t be handed over via a package. The aftermath of one of these events was the context for my short but ever so sweet visit.  

The ways in which Joey and Sarah find themselves serving these families is constantly bursting the banks of their expectations. 

The depth of relationship that has naturally built through their time together, with every Friday morning acting as a building block of trust, has meant that the ways in which Joey and Sarah find themselves serving these families is constantly bursting the banks of their expectations. The team have assisted in getting families set up with child credits and social services support, frequently acted as translators, ferried families to A&E, thrown baby showers, booked GP appointments, been birth partners, and even sought out affordable kitchen flooring on Facebook Marketplace.  

Working for the well-being of these families has also involved appealing to the Red Cross to try and re-unite a Sudanese mother with her twelve-year-old son who has been unable to get out of the war-torn country. With families from Syria, Sudan, Iran, Iraq and Somalia (to name but a few), many of whom have found themselves in Cardiff as refugees, Growbaby is far more than a resource centre, it is a beautifully diverse community, the most understanding of support networks, a means of building a home away from home.   

When Russia launched its invasion of Ukraine last year, the Growbaby team’s minds immediately went to the Russian women within their community, those who had brought their families to the UK in search of political asylum. These women had built a home for themselves and their children here, and yet, the news of the Russian offensive was likely to make them feel as vulnerable as the day they arrived. So, the team gave each of these women a card; a small but mighty gesture that let these women know that they were seen, safe, understood and loved in the place that they now called home.   

The team here are also hosting these families’ trauma and their fears, they’re holding space for their joys and their victories. 

I was struck by the fact that whole lives have been enhanced in this room; friendships have been forged, babies have been celebrated, all kinds of needs have been provided for, and women who came to Growbaby for help are now the volunteers who offer it. And these stories are a mere scratching of a powerful surface, the beaming smiles on both Joey and Sarah’s faces tell a thousand more. The impact that these women have had could never be adequately squeezed into an article (again, not ideal when an article is the objective).  

Stepping foot into the room that Friday morning was stepping foot into the most tangible sense hospitality one could imagine. Of course, there are the obvious, and utterly essential ways, that these families are being hosted – through resources, supplies and practical support. But the team here are also hosting these families’ trauma and their fears, they’re holding space for their joys and their victories. Each person that walks through the door of Cardiff’s Growbaby are finding a community who will welcome and host the whole of them, who will weep with them when they’re weeping, and celebrate with them when they’re celebrating.  

It’s a beautiful thing.  

We could be forgiven for thinking that this kind of no-strings-attached hospitality is a myth. If it ever did exist, it’s bygone, and therefore dwells only in the realms of nostalgia. So, counter-cultural is it, that we’d be suspicious if ever we were to stumble upon rumours of it.  

Well, no suspicion necessary here. It truly does exist; you can take my word for it. And I can’t imagine people more in need of it than parents, the guardians and nurturers of little lives.  

If you are in need of the kind of support that Growbaby can offer, you can see if there’s a Grow Baby near you by using its directory. 

Snippet
Care
Change
Justice
4 min read

Four things I’ve learnt from working with prisoners

Here’s why I care about the incarcerated

Daniel is the regional director, Asia Pacific, for Prison Fellowship International.

Female prisoners hug their children who have climbed across a table to them.
Prisoners hug their children during a visit.
PFI.org.

It was my mother who first sparked my curiosity about engaging with prisoners. As a volunteer prison counsellor, she held bi-weekly meetings with incarcerated individuals, listening to their stories, struggles, and moments of hope. Over family dinners, she would share the situations these people found themselves in and how counseling was breaking through the emotional walls they had built around themselves. 

However, for most of my life, such a prison ministry was never something I considered pursuing – certainly not as my career. I’m a Christian and a verse from the Bible had guided me through life: 

“For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink…I was in prison, and you came to visit me.”  

The last part of that verse was the one I had often skipped over. 

Four years ago, this verse resurfaced in my life and this time, it wouldn’t let go. I was convicted of how I, and much of society, including the church, have often overlooked this desperate need within our communities.  

That conviction led me to work at Prison Fellowship International (PFI). I work alongside others who believe in redemption and grace for those the world has forgotten.  

PFI is a movement of more than 120 partner prison ministries worldwide working to restore the lives of those impacted by crime. It does that by sharing the Christian Gospel and God’s love with prisoners and protecting their children from increased risks of trafficking, child labor or following in their parent’s footsteps.  

As I’ve walked this road, I’ve realized why caring about prisoners matters. It’s not just a good deed, but a vital part of caring for the least and forgotten in our society. Here are four truths that have shaped my thinking. 

Compassion looks past the crime to the person 

In a world that often defines people by their worst mistakes, compassion calls us to look deeper. Many individuals behind bars have been shaped by lives of poverty, trauma and injustice who made poor decisions. In places like Sri Lanka and Nepal, I’ve encountered people imprisoned for stealing food to provide for their families living in desperate poverty. These stories reveal a wider context of inequality, where systemic injustices and lack of access to healthcare, education, or employment drive people towards choices they might not otherwise make.  

While I do not excuse nor diminish the harm caused by crime, we must hold space for both justice and mercy. We must choose to see beyond someone's crime and into their heart to recognize their humanity and believe in the possibility of restoration – for them as an individual, for the victim and for our communities as a whole.  

Families are the silent, forgotten victims 

When someone goes to prison, it’s not only the individual who suffers; their families, especially children, often quietly bear the weight of that loss. I recently met 11-year-old Su Lin in Cambodia. Her dad is imprisoned, and her mother left the family in the care of their grandmother. When the burden of caring for them became too great, Su Lin’s brothers were put up for adoption. She doesn’t know if or when she’ll see her father again or whether her mum will ever return. 

Her story is heartbreaking, but just one of millions. Around the world, children of prisoners are shunned by their community for crimes they did not commit and left isolated in cycles of poverty, trauma and often, generational crime.  

Daily, I have the privilege of working with PFI’s network to support children like Su Lin, but so many more slip through the cracks. When we forget prisoners, we also abandon their families, the silent victims who deserve care, hope, dignity, and a chance at a brighter future. 

True justice restores, not just punishes 

I’ve seen first-hand how forgiveness, accountability, and a path to restoration can heal not just prisoners, but entire communities. In the Solomon Islands, a culture deeply rooted in a strong, connected community, this type of redemption is being lived out.  

There, before prisoners are eligible for parole, they are invited to participate in Sycamore Tree Project, a PFI program that aims to foster healing and reconciliation through restorative efforts. When all parties are ready, local religious leaders facilitate a reconciliation meeting between the offender and victim, often joined by their families and community leaders. These difficult yet grace-filled conversations lead to healing, accountability, and forgiveness. 

Our findings have been powerful: reoffending rates in these communities have dropped dramatically. This is what radical reconciliation looks like – messy and challenging, but life-changing. 

Faith calls us to love the forgotten

At the heart of faith is a call to love those whom the world has cast aside, including those behind bars, so often labelled unworthy and left behind. With many correctional systems still prioritizing punitive justice, I believe we are called to deeply reckon with how we can advocate for grace in a society focused on punishment. 

Prisoners are not beyond hope. Their families are not invisible. Their futures are not sealed. Together, we can bring light into the darkest places in our communities and societies. In doing so, we discover the depth of true, lasting justice and mercy.    

Support Seen & Unseen

Since Spring 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,000 articles. All for free. 
This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
 
Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin
Editor-in-Chief