My name is Abdalaziz Abuaskar, and I'm reaching out on behalf of my cousin Sabrin and her family—her husband Ahmad, and their two young children, Hanin and Tawfiq. They are among the countless families in Gaza whose lives were shattered in an instant, and they desperately need our help to rebuild.

I would like to begin with a direct message from my cousin Sabrin:

"Hello, I am Sabrin Abuaskar, a writer from the Gaza Strip. The conflict halted my work and the cultural activities I had been carrying out. I have now returned to revive my cultural initiative, which I had built from scratch before everything was destroyed. Today, I need your support to start again, rebuild my work, and continue from where I left off."

A Family's Story: Life Before the War

Before October 7th, the Hajjaj family lived a simple, peaceful life in their warm family home—a place filled with cherished memories and a deep sense of safety.

Sabrin worked at a local community organization, carrying a deep passion for humanitarian work. She believed profoundly in its power to transform lives—both the lives she touched and her own. As a writer, she built a vibrant cultural initiative from scratch. Beyond her formal work, Sabrin volunteered her time organizing workshops and cultural sessions, driven by genuine love for building community and empowering others.

Ahmad would walk to the sewing factory each morning, practicing the craft he loves and has excelled at for years. His skilled hands created garments with pride, and his work provided steady income that sustained his family.

Their children embodied hope itself:

Hanin, their daughter, bright and curious, approached each school day with wonder.

Tawfiq, their son, brought energy and excitement to their modest home, his small dreams matching his young age.

Together, they were a family building a future—step by step, with dignity and purpose.

The Day Everything Changed

Then came the war. Within moments, their entire world collapsed.

Their home—the repository of family photos, children's first drawings, quiet evenings together—was destroyed. Ahmad lost his workplace at the sewing factory. Sabrin's community organization ceased to exist, and the conflict violently halted her writing and the cultural activities she had poured her heart into. Their income, their stability, their sanctuary: all gone in an instant.

Since that day, the Hajjaj family has been displaced, moving constantly in search of safety that remains elusive. They have sheltered in tents, in overcrowded schools, and even in hospital corridors—anywhere that offers temporary protection from the violence outside. Today, they are still standing at zero, trying to find the strength to begin again.

Their Current Reality & How Your Support Will Help

The family of four now survives in temporary shelters, facing daily uncertainty. The children have been out of school for months, their education interrupted, their small dreams placed on hold. Ahmad cannot practice his craft without a workplace. Sabrin cannot organize the community workshops she loved without a community to gather. They have lost everything except each other—and their hope.

Your contribution is not merely a donation. It is a lifeline that will help the Hajjaj family:

Why This Matters

Sabrin wrote recently: "Despite the harshness of this experience, we continue to hold onto hope and believe that new beginnings are possible when compassionate hands reach out. We dream of regaining a basic sense of stability and providing our family with a life that preserves our dignity and allows us to look toward the future with reassurance."

This is not just about rebuilding walls. It's about rebuilding lives. It's about restoring dignity to a family that has lost everything except their determination to rise again.

Every Contribution Makes a Real Difference

No amount is too small. Every dollar brings them closer to stability, closer to home, closer to hope.

To every heart that chooses to stand with the Hajjaj family: thank you. Thank you for being part of their story toward a new beginning. Thank you for believing, as they do, that difficult beginnings can still lead to beautiful futures.

Your compassion is their strength. Your support is their hope.