A Mother and Father are being displaced

I have five beautiful children who are my entire world. Every day, I do everything I can to raise them with love, dignity, and hope — even as we are trapped in a war zone surrounded by destruction, hunger, and fear.

There are no schools. No safety. No food.
My children wake up to the sound of explosions, not alarm clocks. They go to sleep hungry, not because they refuse to eat — but because there is nothing to give them.
Bit by bit, their childhood is being stolen.

Here in Gaza, the future feels like a wall with no way forward.
Each day brings new bombings, new deaths, and another wave of displacement. We have been forced to flee over and over again, and every time we lose what little we had left. The cost of moving, finding shelter, and starting over again and again is crushing — and yet we still have nothing but a tent, the heat, and bare survival.

Now we live without clean water, without medicine, and with barely any food. My children suffer from painful skin infections and malnutrition. This is not a life. No child should be made to endure this.

And still, I push on as a mother. I fight to protect them, to comfort them, to keep them alive. But my strength is running out.
I am not a soldier or a politician — just a mother begging for someone to see us, to hear us, to care.

All I want is for my children to live.
To grow up in peace. To have the chance to go to school, to laugh, to play. To have a future. They do not deserve this life of endless suffering.

Please, if you can, help us.
Help me feed my children. Help me give them a little hope. A piece of bread. A clean drink of water. A single day of safety. Anything at all makes a difference.

You are not just helping us survive — you are giving my children a reason to believe they can live.

From one human being to another: please don’t look away.