I wonder......

My name is Sahar. Like any young woman, I dreamed of a stable and happy life. I was engaged to Mohammad, and together, we dreamed of building a warm little home where we could start our life. We spent years preparing our house, but just before our wedding, everything was destroyed in an instant by the war.

I was faced with a choice: to leave Mohammad in the midst of this chaos or to stand by him and begin our journey together, no matter how difficult it might be. I chose him. We got married, not in the dream wedding I had envisioned, but under the harsh reality of war. Our new home became a fragile tent, offering neither comfort nor security.

After we got married, I received the news that I was pregnant with my daughter, and I live in constant fear for my unborn child. I am terrified of the world she will be born into—a world of poverty, hunger, and bitter cold. We have been displaced from our home more than nine times, carrying with us nothing but the burden of loss and the hope of survival. The house we dreamed of is now rubble, and the tent we live in barely protects us from the rain and cold.How will I protect my daughter? We struggle to find enough food. Basic necessities like milk, blankets, and clothing feel impossibly out of reach. The cost of survival has become unbearable. Every night, I am haunted by the thought: how can I bring her into this world, knowing I cannot keep her safe?

After a long pregnancy filled with pain and fear, after nights without sleep, I finally gave birth to my baby girl. She was born in the middle of bombing, surrounded by destruction and poverty—not in a warm room, not in a safe place. Her first cry mixed with the sound of explosions, as if she was announcing her arrival into a cruel world she never chose.

I gave birth to her with nothing but my heart. I cannot promise her anything. Poverty surrounds us from every side, and the cold reaches her tiny body before night even comes. My baby and I are suffering deeply, not because we ask for much, but because I am unable to provide her with the most basic needs: milk, warmth, and safety.

When I look into her eyes, I feel strength. When I look at my empty hands, I break down in tears. I am a mother trying to save her child from hunger and fear, in a world that has shown no mercy even to the dreams of children.😢🥹

To donate or support us, here is the link 👇🙏

Artist: @soapyakships

Really awesome commission I bought! I'm always thinking about this scenario, all the time. The composer bites, and I think Mafuyu might just let her, watch out.

I am Inas, a mother of two young children: Muhammad, 7 years old, and Hala, 5 years old. They should have been living their childhood like all children—safe and warm in the embrace of their father. But the war has stolen that dream from us😭😭😭

Six months ago, my husband Anas, a kind-hearted man who endured a life of poverty, was killed by a random shell while on his way to work as a taxi driver. Since that tragic day, I’ve been left to carry the unbearable weight of life alone.

I held a diploma in international secretarial studies and was about to start a job to help support my family. But the war shattered not only our home but also my hopes and dreams. We’ve been displaced six times and now live in a tent that offers no shelter from the bitter cold or the ever-looming fear.

My young children face relentless hunger that weakens their fragile bodies and a cold that knows no mercy for their small hearts. Each day, their cries for warmth and food grow louder, and each day, I feel more helpless to provide them with even the basics of life💔😭😭

I appeal to your humanity, to your compassion. We need your help to survive, to find a safe shelter, and to feed my children. Your generosity could be the reason Muhammad and Hala continue to live and find hope amidst this darkness🥹

Please, help me keep the light of these innocent children from being extinguished by this cruel world

Donation Link

Before the war, we lived a simple, peaceful life in Gaza. My wife and I were raising our six children—four boys, one girl, and our baby daughter who had not yet turned one. Our home was small, but it was full of laughter, warmth, and love. 🏡❤️

Then, in a single moment, everything was gone.

Airstrikes destroyed our home. The walls that once protected my children turned into rubble. I still remember the sound… the fear in their eyes… the way they held onto me as we ran for our lives. I couldn’t take anything with me—only my family. 😢💥

Now, we live in a fragile tent in a refugee camp. ⛺

The cold does not wait. The wind enters from every side. At night, my children cannot sleep—not because of noise, but because of hunger. My baby daughter cries in my arms, and I have nothing to give her. No milk. No warmth. Only empty hands and a broken heart. 🥶👶💔

As a father, this is the deepest pain—to see your children suffer and feel helpless.

Every day is a battle. I search for food. I try to keep our tent standing. I try to protect my children from sickness, fear, and despair. I am doing everything I can… but it is not enough. 😔

I need your help.

I want to be honest with you: during my last fundraising campaign, I was scammed. At a time when we had nothing, we lost even more. It broke me—but I refused to give up on my children. ⚠️💔

Now, I have created a new campaign with the help of a trusted friend, so your support can safely reach my family. I am asking you from my heart—please give us another chance. 🤝

Your help can save my children. 🙏

Even a small donation can mean: 🍞 Food for my hungry children

🍼 Milk for my baby daughter

💊 Medicine when we are sick

🧣 Blankets to survive the cold nights

Please, my friends… do not turn away.

If you cannot donate, please share my story. Your share could reach someone who can help save my family. 📢

From a father who is trying not to lose everything

Thank you for standing with us. ❤️