Five years, for any child, feels like a lifetime. For the millions of Syrian children whose lives have been turned upside down by the conflict, these last five years must have felt even longer than that. The conflict in Syria has now raged for half a decade, and in this time the millions of children affected have had to deal with more suffering and heartbreak than most of us will ever experience. The conflict has placed millions of children in terrible danger, and sadly a real end to the turmoil still seems a distant prospect. More than eight million Syrian children are now in urgent need of humanitarian aid in what is the greatest humanitarian crisis since World War II.
Today we are facing the greatest humanitarian crisis since the Second World War. There are more than two million children who have been made refugees as a result of the ongoing conflict in Syria. That's two million stories of children like Rose. And their lives matter - because if those children's lives don't matter then how can my child's life matter. If those children aren't important then my child can't be important. Either every child's life matters or none of them do. So in sharing their stories, I'm also asking you to take notice and to do something about this. We have to step up to this humanitarian crisis and we have to act.
This time last year I travelled to the Bekaa Valley in Lebanon to see how Unicef, the world's leading children's organisation, is keeping Syrian children safe and warm as the temperatures plummet. Nothing could have prepared me for the heartbreaking situation I encountered; the conditions for families living in these informal camps were just horrendous. It's not somewhere that anyone should have to call a home, especially not a child. The over-crowded and unsanitary conditions need just one storm to set off a terrible chain reaction. The cold weather already makes children susceptible to respiratory infections like pneumonia.
Rik was ridiculously charming, funny and generous - and clearly loved by the crew around him. He was also, I was embarrassed but delighted to learn, flirtatious. After the chat and the autograph, one of the crew took our photo together: I put my arm around Rik, he put his hand on my bottom. But it wasn't, I hasten to add, the slightest bit creepy or slimey. It was funny, and brilliant. Clearly, this man wasn't making a play for me - he was just absolutely making my day. It was, in short, pretty much the most perfect meeting-of-a-hero you could wish for.
As a football-obsessed young boy growing up in South Wales I never thought I would have the chance to play at Old Trafford in front of more than 60,000 people. If you'd told me I'd be captaining a team filled with a host of football legends and Hollywood stars I would have laughed. Playing in Soccer Aid sometimes does feel like a bit of a dream - I know the other guys involved also treasure this unique experience. But when I lead the Rest of the World team out on 8 June, it won't just be football on my mind; because there's a bigger reason why we come together every two years for this extraordinary football match.
The pacing is sadly where Breaking Dawn Part 2 is let down. Had they condensed the risible Part 1 into the opening 20 minutes of this film and skipped the extended sequence of finding members of the Cullen family who really serve no purpose in a narrative sense, we may have enjoyed a more complete film experience.
This is a different Hamlet. It is fully accessible, but wholly unusual. It is set in a mental asylum/prison. The main set is a circle of institutional chairs. Featuring magic, horror, child's play and dream it has more in common with an adult's therapy session than a traditional West End performance.