Donate to Support Gaza Soup Kitchen

As I turn 30, I’m struck by what a privilege it is to grow older — to be safe, fed, and surrounded by community and loved ones.

Meanwhile In Gaza, hundreds of thousands are denied that basic right to life.

So for my birthday, I’m asking for just one thing: Help me raise $1,800 for the Gaza Soup Kitchen.

Every day, the U.S. government sends billions in weapons and military aid to Israel — funding a genocide in real time. Our tax dollars are destroying lives. The least we can do as U.S. citziens is to help save some.

Direct aid matters. The blockade of food, water, and medical supplies in Gaza since March has only exacerbated the genocide. It can often feel unclear whether donations truly reach those in need — but that’s exactly why I support the Gaza Soup Kitchen. Their team is on the ground, feeding their own communities while providing ongoing updates with honesty and transparency.

This work means hot meals for displaced families, dignity in the face of destruction, and — most importantly — a lifeline for survival.

It costs $1,000 to run one Gaza Soup Kitchen for a single day. I’m raising $1,800 — enough to keep nearly two kitchens running for a day. The number is intentional: in Judaism, the word Chai (חי) means “life” and carries the numerical value of 18. We give in multiples of 18 to honor and affirm life.

My Jewish values — justice, dignity, solidarity, and tikkun olam (repairing the world) — demand that I act. Making sure people have food and stay alive isn’t charity — it’s a moral obligation.

Our government is funding this genocide. The least we can do is help those trying to survive it.

Gaza Soup Kitchen was started by two brothers, Hani and Mahmoud Almadhoun, who made a promise: no one in their neighborhood would go hungry. What began as cooking for neighbors in Beit Lahia has grown into 10 kitchens serving thousands of meals daily.

In early 2024, an airstrike killed Mahmoud. Still - Hani and the rest of the team didn’t stop. They kept cooking. Kept showing up.

They live by one word: Mostamreen — “We will continue.”

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been in touch with Hani. He sends photos from the kitchens. Notes filled with grief and gratitude.

They will keep going. We must keep showing up for them .

So I am. And I’m asking you to join me.

Give if you can. Share if you can’t. But please — don’t look away.

Help me honor life by supporting those fighting every day to preserve it.