Synder

My daughter Sham needs your help🙏🏻

Sham gave birth after 12 years of failed insemination attempts.

The war deprived her of her father when she was one year old and he was martyred while trying to earn a living.💔

Help my little Sham provide the necessities of a decent life🙏🏻💔

Help me afford the cost of providing a decent life for my little Sham❤️❤️

Stan helps with fundraisers, Xeno helps with homework. Stan shows up to the classroom with cupcakes for birthdays and serves snacks at the sleepovers.

Both of them show up for sports and science fairs. Stan carries the equipment and Xeno directs him. Stan also makes the playground trips because Xeno gets hot. Xeno does indoor play though.

Family time is building rockets together and camping in the backyard to look at constellations on the telescope.

I’m debating one thing though. Stan for sure would buy his baby girl dirt bikes and ride on toys, but I don’t know if Xeno would go along and improve them with science and such or if he’d be like.

“Our daughter shouldn’t be on that it’s dangerous.”

Maybe both. She can’t play with them without a helmet and stuff

Stan helps with fundraisers, Xeno helps with homework. Stan shows up to the classroom with cupcakes for birthdays and serves snacks at the sleepovers.

Both of them show up for sports and science fairs. Stan carries the equipment and Xeno directs him. Stan also makes the playground trips because Xeno gets hot. Xeno does indoor play though.

Family time is building rockets together and camping in the backyard to look at constellations on the telescope.

I’m debating one thing though. Stan for sure would buy his baby girl dirt bikes and ride on toys, but I don’t know if Xeno would go along and improve them with science and such or if he’d be like.

“Our daughter shouldn’t be on that it’s dangerous.”

Maybe both. She can’t play with them without a helmet and stuff

I am a woman from Palestine Gaza 🇵🇸.

I once had a modest but loving home with my husband, Mohammad, and our four children: Mahmoud, Somaya, Mostafa, and little Sila.

Our house was small, but it held our world — filled with warmth, laughter, and dreams.

Mohammad worked as a tailor, using his hands to stitch dignity into our days, providing just enough for us to live in peace.

But in a single, brutal moment… everything disappeared.

An airstrike hit our neighborhood.

Our home collapsed under the force of the explosion.😭💔

We escaped with nothing — not clothes, not memories, not even the toys my children cherished.

Mohammad’s tailor shop was demolished by Israeli bulldozers, leaving him without work, without tools, without hope.

Now, we live in a torn, fragile tent.

It doesn’t shield us from the cold.

It doesn’t protect my children from hunger or fear.

Rain seeps in. The nights are long and cruel. My children cry themselves to sleep.

I am a mother who cannot provide warmth, food, or safety.

I watch them suffer — I hear their tiny whispers asking when we’ll go home again… and I have no answers.

I am Alaa😓.

I don’t ask for much.

Just a chance to live with dignity again.

Just a moment of mercy.

If you hear me… if you feel my pain…

🌸Please help us🌸🙏.

Even the smallest act of kindness can bring light into our darkness.

Donation link

@90-ghost

Vetted by gaza-vetters number in the list ✅365✅

Hello, my name sooad Muhammad, I am a 61-year-old mother and former school teacher from Gaza💔

After the army entered the city, we went out to Rafah under the attack of planes and missiles.And the bullets that spare no one, we lived in torn tents that did not protect from the heat, the cold, or the rain. All the words in the world cannot describe what we have lived through. All I want is for you to look at me and my family with a merciful heart and help me.

Before October 7th, I lived a humble life, dedicated to teaching and raising my children. But everything changed. Since that day, my family and I have been living in unimaginable conditions—without electricity, without clean water, without safety.

Our home was destroyed, and we now sleep in a torn tent, exposed to the freezing cold. My children cry from hunger and fear. The markets are empty or unaffordable. Bread is now a luxury—I knead pasta just to make something to fill their stomachs

Please open your heart and stand with us in this time of despair.

We are not asking for much—just a chance to survive. A blanket for the cold. A piece of bread. A roof that does not leak. A moment of peace for my children

I am humbly asking for your help. Your donation, no matter how small, can give us warmth, food, and hope. It can help us survive these dark days and rebuild a life with dignity.

Your support means the world to me and my family.

Please donate 🙏

All the destruction that you see, we live every day a hundred times, and we live hunger, death, and a life that has no taste of life

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.