For a very young child, moving house can be incredibly bewildering, disruptive, even traumatizing, especially when moving countries tends to mean belongings need to be severely curtailed.  Few remember their own childhood attachments, closely held treasures, even if perceived by harried adults as inconsequential as a bag of broken seashells.  Would a little more listening and empathic explanation with kindness ease things well at such transition times

sometimes in a crowd a face is seen that stirs remembering - not always in a good way

Inspired by Christopher Victor Russon's nostalgic poem 'Those Talking Pictures'

scenes from an urban station at rush-hour...

a lonely shore on a tempestuous night had these thoughts come to mind about the state of the world and the high price paid for mankind's redemption - (Matt 20:28 Christ gave his life as a ransom for many; Matt 27:45 darkness at noon for 3 hours as payment for humanity is made)