Sweet Dispossession

(I am visiting my grandmother and we are talking about current events. Refugees are a pretty big deal at the moment.)

Grandma: “There are so many refugees coming to our country at the moment! What are they thinking? This is our country; they shouldn’t come here and live off our money.”

Me: *completely baffled* “They are coming here so they don’t get killed. I think we should be proud of the fact that so many people see our country as a safe haven.”

Grandma: “Still, they have no right! We don’t even have enough space for them! Those people should stay where they come from!”

Me: “Are you serious?! Grandma, YOU are a refugee!”

(She actually is. During World War Two, her family was forced to leave by soldiers breaking in their house, giving them ten minutes to pack and threatening them to shoot them if they weren’t out of the house and on their way out of the country in the given time. She lived in one of the areas that used to belong to Germany, but now is part of Poland.)

Grandma: “That’s a huge difference! I’m a dispossessed!!”

Me: “Grandma!! If a bomb is dropped on your house, THEN I AM VERY SURE THAT COUNTS AS EXTREMELY DISPOSSESSED!”

(The argument went on for a while, with me showing her news, pictures, and videos from the countries the refugees are fleeing from. She changed her opinion after that.)