After landing in Beirut, Swedish photojournalist Magnus Wennman  wanted to show the world where refugee children really sleep when taking refuge in a foreign country.

It all happened after Wennman met a refugee father and his two daughters, who had fled to Lebanon from Damascus after their home had been hit by a grenade, killing the mother and brother.

“Now they sleep on a piece of cardboard right next to the road, waiting for cars to stop and throw them some food. Their father told us that every time a car stopped he was afraid that someone would take the kids away from him. He told us that every now and then men in cars asked if they could buy the girls for a few hours," Wennman said, according to UNHCR .

Wennman started his project in early 2015, when he traveled across the Middle East and Europe to seven different countries, meeting refugee children who showed him the place where they lay their heads at night.

“I came up with this idea that I wanted to document where the refugee children sleep,” said Wennman. “No matter how hard this conflict may be to understand, it’s not hard to understand that children need a safe place to sleep.”

"Lamar, 5, Horgos, Serbia. Lamar left her dolls, toy train, and ball back home in Baghdad, Iraq. She often talks about these items when home is mentioned. One bomb changed everything. Her family was on its way to buy food when a bomb was dropped close to their house. “It was not possible to live there anymore,” says Lamar’s grandmother, Sara. After two attempts to cross the sea from Turkey in a small rubber boat, they have made it to the Hungarian border. Now Lamar sleeps on a blanket in the forest, scared, frozen, and sad."

With an estimated 2.5 million children forced to flee their war-stricken homes due to the Syrian conflict, many have never known anything but war and flight. In fact, one in three children have not been given the simple luxury of being a child.

“I’ve covered a lot of different situations and conflicts and disasters, but from my experience, it takes a lot for a child to stop being a child,” Wennman said . “It takes a lot for a child to stop playing and stop laughing, but in some of these cases it felt like these children had to grow up and become adults far too fast.”

"Walaa, 5, Mar Elias informal settlement, Lebanon. Walaa wants to go home. She had her own room in Aleppo, Syria, she tells us. There, she never used to cry at bedtime. Here, in the informal settlement, she cries every night. Resting her head on the pillow is horrible, she says, because nighttime is horrible. That was when the attacks happened. By day, Walaa’s mother often builds a little house out of pillows, to teach her that they are nothing to be afraid of."

"I hope these photos help people understand, and perhaps care, to do something to help these victims of the war,” he added .

For the first time, Wennman's work was brought to United States, in a photo exhibition at the New York Public Library, a collaboration between the UNHCR and Fotografiska, the Swedish Museum of Photography, which concluded July 10.