They were three days of suffering, death and, most importantly, hope. From Good Friday to Easter Sunday, I experienced those raw emotions aboard a migrant rescue ship.
We saved thousands of migrants, counted the dead, and covered the shivering. All in a day's work for the crew of the MOAS ship the Phoenix, one of the rescue vessels plying the waters of the southern Mediterranean trying to make the sea less of a cemetery.
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The next day was intense in a different way.
Hundreds more people were taken on from rubber dinghies that surrounded the Phoenix, seeming at times like black beads of a large floating rosary.
For many, Easter Monday is a day of hope. For me, that hope was incarnated in the smile of a Somali mother when we rescued her and her 12-day-old baby.