I'm Aya from Gaza 🇵🇸… I’m writing this with a heart that feels broken 💔. Last night, the storm hit us so hard that the rain 🌧️ and wind 💨 collapsed our tent on top of my children 😔. They woke up crying, soaked, and terrified… and we stood in the cold with no shelter at all 🥶.

I try every day to stay strong 💔‍🩹 but life has become heavier than I can carry alone. Prices are unbearable, and I can’t even provide the simplest things anymore—food 🍞, clothes 👕, warmth 🧣… nothing.

I’m reaching out with so much shame 😞 but with a mother’s hope that someone out there might feel our pain. If you can help us with anything—even a small amount—it could bring a little safety and comfort to my children 🤲😭.

Hello, I hope everyone is well... Ramadan has arrived, but the suffering of the people of Gaza continues in every way... For over two years, we haven't felt anything; everything is destroyed, dreams have vanished, we've lost relatives, our homes, and our jobs. Nothing remains... And here comes Ramadan for the third time, and we are neither in our homes nor at our jobs. We lack even the most basic necessities.😔

Things are more difficult than you expect. We are not at home or at our jobs. We wish we could have these beautiful moments like before. We see food, clothes, and everything else, but we cannot buy anything because everything is expensive and we have no income. Ramadan has come and its requirements are very numerous, including suhoor and iftar.

I hope you will support me so that I can provide food for my family during Ramadan. We need $50 every day for Suhoor and Iftar. Every donation from you, no matter how small, will help us to buy food. Together we can raise the amount. 🙏😔😔

You never know which 10, 25, or 50$ will feed a fasting person, and they will pray for you. And the reward for prayers is great in the blessed month of Ramadan.🙏

My name is Suhaila, a mother of four children.

I am writing these words from inside the hospital, with a heart full of fear and pain.

My health is very critical. My iron level is 6,

and my little daughter Miral’s iron level is 5.

I urgently need donations to buy the medicine and save our lives

My husband is injured and unable to work. We have no income and no protection.

Our family lives in a torn tent, exposed to cold, hunger, and fear every day.

My health is very critical. My iron level is 6,

and my little daughter Miral’s iron level is 5.

She is so weak… her small body is fading, and I cannot afford the medicine or the food she needs to survive.

Right now, my daughter and I are in the hospital, waiting helplessly.

My other children are alone in the tent, hungry and scared.

We are not asking for luxury.

We are asking for treatment to stay alive

and food so my children do not die.

Please, do not let my children lose their mother,

and do not let me lose my daughter in front of my eyes.

Help us. Save us. We are slowly dying. 😭💔🙏

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #724 )✅️

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like even sitting in an office for eight hours a day isn’t particularly pleasant (or healthy, as we are beginning to see) but when we’re talking about doing *actual work* for that same amount time it gets pretty fucking brutal

doing literally *anything* (even leisure activities) for eight hours straight tends to be less than enjoyable but when we’re talking about things like construction, landscaping, factory work, and hell, even foodservice and retail, eight hours is a fucking ETERNITY

Indeed it is! The FCC controls how much of broadcasting has to cater to children and that includes how educational that programming has to be, and exactly how much and in what way you are allowed to advertise to kids. That's why for the entire 90s and up to the early 00s, kids shows had shorter commercial breaks, and ads that talked about a website had to say "ask your parents before going online", and those websites had to be non-commercial--i.e. they could not be shops, and could not have any way you could spend money or were encouraged to spend money. That's why Barbie.com was flash games, and O'Rielly LIFTING that ban is why Barbie.com now takes you directly to a storefront instead.

If you're mad about Saturday Morning Cartoons, dark patterns in ads targeted at children, online protections for kids, or wondering why educational children's shows aren't as much of a thing as they used to be, get mad at the FCC and the person in charge of it who is gutting the Children's Brodcasting Rules (sometimes called the Kid Vid Rules), because those rules control all of that!

While O'Rielly is responsible for gutting the rules in 2019, he was replaced in 2020 by Nathan Simington as head of the FCC, and Simington resigned in June of this year. The post remains vacant as of the time of this writing (August 31, 2025).

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.

My name is Abdulmajid.

I got married one month before the war. Those were beautiful days — full of hope, love, and simple dreams. I dreamed of a small home, a quiet family, and a baby girl I could hold without fear.

But the war came… Suddenly. Brutally.

My mother was killed. My brother was killed. Children in my family were taken by the bombs. My home was destroyed. And my work stopped completely.

Then… in the middle of this nightmare, my baby girl was born. A tiny soul, innocent, unaware of the war. She cries from hunger, from cold, from the sounds of bombs shaking what’s left of our walls.

Today, I’m a father with almost nothing… Fighting every day to find flour, milk, or even a small meal to feed my child.

Prices are sky-high — a single 25kg bag of flour can cost $800. There is no work. No income. No safety. No stability.

I write this from under siege, hoping my heart will reach yours.

Even $1 can make a difference. It can feed a child, buy milk, or bring a moment of peace. Be the heart that reaches Gaza. Be the hand that saves.

📌 Please share this post. Let our voices be heard — not buried under rubble.