Thanks everyone. I made the donation I was thinking of to Doctors Without Borders, and I've decided to give more, I just haven't decided where to give the second part.
I've mostly moved past grief (though seeing that photo will still make me teary) and onto anger. Mostly at myself. I've known for nearly a decade of people dying trying to reach Europe. I can pinpoint when I first heard about it: February 2006, when I visited the Canary Islands. I knew there was war in Syria. I knew about the terrible treatment of the Kurds and others by ISIS. And somehow, until I saw a little boy who reminded me so much of my son, it wasn't enough to spur me to act.