I was in Vienna for a few days last month and kept seeing the stumbling stones, brass cobbles with the names and dates of death of the Jews and other victims of Nazism who had been dragged out of nearby buildings. I thought of my mother, who was in MI6 and was sent there after the Anschluss on 12 March 1938. Her job was deciding who was to get a visa, because Britain had its quotas and criteria (then, as now, the rich and useful were top of the list). We never knew whether the almost certain fate of the people she turned down weighed on her, but this episode in her life suddenly seemed particularly relevant. What will happen to the hundreds of Afghans who worked for us but whom we’ve left behind, largely because couldn’t decide early enough to say, “We’ll take them all”? Last month, Pope Francis emphasised how we should view refugees and immigrants in a positive light: “The Holy Spirit enables us to embrace everyone… In encountering the diversity of foreigners, migrants and refugees, and in the intercultural dialogue that can emerge from this encounter, we have an opportunity to grow as Church and to enrich one another.”