( VETTING: #520 on the Gazavetters document )

And due to Tumblr's bullshittery marking multiple posts as "sensitive content" for no discernable reason and targeting Palestinian fundraisers to hide them, I will instead hyperlink to Musab's fundraiser instead of a direct link in order to try get past the flagging.

Please stop ✋🚨 you're the only hope to save a child🥺

My son Mohammed is in critical condition after being shot by Israeli drones. He has been taken to the operating ⛺️ and urgently needs treatment outside the Gaza Strip.

I lost most of my family. I'm afraid to lose my son too 🥺 .

I need your help please donate and share, evry contribution, no matter how small, brings us hope in these dark times.

Mohammed deserves to live a happy and healthy life, just like every other child on this earth.

Please Donate now:👇👇 👇

✅️My campaign is vetted by el-shab-hussein & Nabulsi's, my number verified on the list is ( #355)✅️ 👇

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/1yYkNp5U3ANwILl2MknJi9G7ArY4uVTEEQ1CVfzR8Ioo/htmlview

No safety. No food. No aid. No water. No healthcare. No education. Is this what it means to live? Is this what world accept as life?

If a group of animals were trapped, starved, and cut off from the world like this, people would be outraged. But because it's us—human beings—somehow, the world looks away.

These are unbearable days. Everything feels heavy. Each hour presses on my chest like I’m being suffocated.

My family needs urgent help.

Basic survival has become nearly impossible. Bread—just bread—now costs over $25 a day to make.

We are not asking for luxury. We are begging for life.

Please, if you’re reading this: help. Reblog this post. Talk about us. Donate if you can. Even a small act can mean everything right now.

My name is Saja. I’m a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow — from her first smile to her first steps — surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.

But life had other plans.

War has returned to our home. Again. And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.

There was a moment — a fragile, breathless moment — when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark — hiding, holding on, praying.

I’m writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.

Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.

This is my life.

This is my daughter’s life.

And even now — especially now — I believe in softness. I believe in kindness. Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.

Why I’m Reaching Out Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.

That’s why I keep going.

I’ve launched a campaign to ask for help — not because it’s easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.

How You Can Help: 🤍 Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity 🤍 Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources 🤍 Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war

💛 If you can, please support our journey here:

If you can’t give, please consider sharing. Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.

From My Heart to Yours Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe you’ve never lived through war. But if you’ve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them — then you understand more than you know.

I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.

Please, if you’ve read this far — thank you. Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring. We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like it’s a lifeline.

I never thought I would write these words… 😔

I never imagined waking up to endless screams,

Running barefoot through smoke and fire,

Searching for my mother among the rubble,

Only to find nothing but silence… a heavy silence telling me that no one will answer me anymore. 💔

In one moment, everything changed.

Our home became a memory, my mother’s embrace became the past,

And my father's face, now absent, is the last thing I hold in my memory.

They’re gone… and left my heart burdened with unspoken grief. 😢

But despite everything, we are still here… trying.

I survived with my younger siblings.

Yes, we survived… but who are we after survival?

Children without warmth, without a roof, with no place to return to.

We were displaced to an unknown place, carrying a bag empty of everything… except pain. 🥀

We slept in the open, waking every morning to a life that holds nothing for us,

But despite everything… we keep trying. 💪

I write to you today not to cry, but to ask for hope. 🌱

I ask you to be a small light in this vast darkness,

To extend a hand that can mend what the war has broken in us.

Your donation will give my siblings a chance to sleep safely,

It will provide us with food, shelter, and maybe even a new beginning. 💖

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #586 )✅️

Any amount, no matter how small, is big for us

It’s a prayer, it’s love, it’s life. 🌟

In conclusion...

From my heart, and from the hearts of my little siblings,

Thank you to everyone who has donated,

Thank you to everyone who has read,

Thank you to everyone who has shared.