A Morning That Burned More Than Skin
Her name is Solin.
She is six years old—too young to understand why pain sometimes arrives without warning.
This morning was supposed to be ordinary.
A simple morning, like any other in a place where even “normal” feels fragile.
But in a moment that lasted only seconds… everything changed.
A pot of boiling water slipped…
and landed on a small body that had done nothing to deserve such pain.
Now Solin lies in a hospital bed,
her tiny hands wrapped, her skin carrying second-degree burns.
But what breaks me more than anything… is the way she looks at me.
Not just pain,
but confusion.
As if she is asking:
“Why did this happen to me?”
How do you answer that?
How do you explain pain to a child who still believes the world is meant to be kind?
We are already living through days that test every bit of strength we have.
Fear, loss, and uncertainty have become part of our daily lives.
And yet, nothing prepares you for seeing your own child in pain… and being unable to take it away.
Solin doesn’t cry all the time.
Sometimes she just stays silent… watching… enduring more than any child should ever have to.
And in those quiet moments, you realize something:
children are stronger than we think…
but they should never be forced to be.
I am writing this not only as a father,
but as a human being holding on to hope in the middle of collapse.
All I want…
is for my daughter to heal.
To laugh again.
To forget this morning ever happened.
And if you are reading this today,
I am asking you—from a father’s heart—to stand with us.
Through your support, your sharing, or even a kind word that reaches others.
Every small act can make a real difference in Solin’s healing journey and ease this heavy burden on us.
The campaign link is below,
and our hope in God—and in you—is great.
My name is Thaer Tayseer Faraj, and I live in Gaza, Palestine. … Thair Faraj needs your support for Help Thaer Give His Children Sa
