Little Hind Needs You - Save Her From Hunger and War in Gaza

We are a family whose bond is our sole refuge in the face of unimaginable suffering. Hind, our beloved daughter, is the light of our lives, though her world is cloaked in shadows. At only two years old, she should be chasing her first dreams, exploring her tiny universe with wide-eyed wonder, and filling the air with unrestrained laughter. But Hind has been denied the innocence of childhood. The war in Gaza took from her not just a home, but a chance at the simple joys every child deserves.

Our house was not just four walls; it was a symbol of love, safety, and the memories we built together. It held our dreams, our laughter, and our hopes for Hind’s future. In an instant, those walls crumbled under the weight of war, leaving behind only rubble and silence. The space that once echoed with Hind’s first words now lies in ruins, a stark reminder of all that we have lost.

Left with no choice, we now live in a fragile tent that barely shields us from the merciless realities of life. The biting cold pierces through the thin fabric at night, and the blazing sun scorches us during the day. Rain turns our shelter into a puddle of despair, and the wind threatens to carry away what little we have left. Hind clings to us, her tiny hands trembling, seeking warmth and comfort we struggle to provide. How do you explain to a child so young why the world feels so cruel?

Every day is a battle—a fight for the basics of life. Food is scarce, and clean water feels like a distant luxury. We wake up each morning with heavy hearts, bracing ourselves for another day of survival. Hind’s once-bright eyes now hold a sadness far beyond her years. Her laughter, the music of our home, has been replaced by silent tears. As parents, the pain of witnessing her suffering is a weight we carry every moment. We yearn to give her a childhood filled with love, security, and the promise of a better tomorrow. Yet, each day in the tent takes us further from that dream.

This was once our home in Gaza—a place where love thrived, laughter echoed, and life felt whole. We built it with dreams in our hearts and $250,000 of hard-earned savings. Every corner was filled with memories, every wall witnessed our joy. But today, it no longer stands. It has been reduced to rubble, leaving us with nothing but the pain of what we lost. Now, we live under the frail cover of a tent, exposed to a harsh reality. The rains drown us in cold and despair, and the merciless summer sun burns away any remnants of comfort. Our children, who once ran freely in a safe home, now sit in a tent, stripped of innocence. 

We dream of rebuilding what was lost or finding an escape from this endless suffering. But the cost is insurmountable—$5,000 for each of us, a family of seven, to leave Gaza. That’s $35,000 to reclaim some semblance of life. Your kindness, your support, could be the light that guides us out of this darkness. Your generosity could give us a chance to hope again, to live again. Please, be our beacon of hope.