Even the bird was not spared from pain. He flew off to find food for his little ones, but when he returned, he found them in pieces beneath the ashes of a burned branch. He stood silently, crying—unable to understand the language of war or why the souls he sang to every morning were taken away. If a small bird could feel such agony, imagine the heart of a mother under endless bombing, or a father holding the torn bodies of his children with shaking, powerless hands. Donate here
My name is Sami, and I speak to you from the heart of Gaza. We have survived being buried under rubble again and again, carrying our children as we flee from one death to another. There is no medicine, no shelter, no food. My children tremble from hunger and fear. I’m not writing this to sadden you—I’m writing to try to save my family. My mother is sick, my siblings are displaced, my children are starving. We live in tents that protect neither from the heat nor the cold. If you’re reading this, leave even a dot—it means you saw us. Please donate here. Someone is praying for the help you can give.
@el-shab-hussein @fairuzfan
A large number of people participate, but unfortunately, no one donates. I swear, I am talking to you and I am ashamed of you because I have not eaten for more than two full days.
Please help us, friends. Just 220 euros and we will achieve our goal. Please continue to help us. We are dying in Gaza in all forms of death.
