Every donation, word of support, can make a real difference

I am Fatima, a 21-year-old woman.I got engaged just one month before the war started. My dreams were simple: a warm home, a small family, and a smile that never fades.But the war came suddenly and shattered even the simplest of hopes.In its early days, I was separated from my fiancé. I remained in northern Gaza, while he was displaced to the south.We tried to stay in touch, but the infrastructure was completely destroyed—no electricity, no internet, and sometimes no phone signal at all.Months went by with little to no contact, just waiting for news, waiting for a miracle.Eventually, communication slowly began to return. We talked whenever we could. He asked me to come to the south, because he was forbidden from returning to the north.I kept refusing—not because I didn’t love him, but because I couldn’t leave my family behind in such horror.He kept pleading, and I kept clinging to hope… hoping the war would end, that we could start our life together here in the north.But the war didn’t end. My heart was torn between love and fear.After months of struggle, I finally agreed to leave.I packed what I could—clothes fit for a bride, cleaning supplies, a few accessories—knowing these things were unavailable where I was going.I said goodbye to my mother, my siblings, my neighborhood—everything I’d ever known.I traveled south, reunited with my fiancé, and we got married… far from those I love, holding onto hope that this would be the beginning of a new life.But the joy didn’t last long.Soon after, during a temporary ceasefire, we decided to return to the north.But peace was only an illusion.War returned quickly, and our area was once again under attack.We had to flee again—this time not to the north or the south, but to the west of Gaza.We carried our newborn baby, shattered memories, and a dream that refused to die.Today, I live with my husband and infant son in a tattered tent that offers no protection from the cold of winter or the heat of summer.My baby knows nothing of life but the sound of drones, trembling ground, and the cries of hunger.He cries often—sometimes from cold, sometimes from hunger, sometimes from fear—and I can do nothing.We are in desperate need of everything:- Baby formula, diapers, blankets, clean water, food—just enough to survive.- There are no hospitals nearby, no healthcare, and if one of us gets sick, all we have is prayer.- We need urgent aid to maintain the bare minimum of dignity as a family and as human beings.I’m not asking for the impossible—just enough to keep my baby alive, just enough to keep going for his sake.Your donation, no matter how small, is the only hope we have.For my child, for the children of Gaza, for our humanity—please, don’t hesitate.Help us live.Help us fight death with life.