I am writing with a heavy heart and a desperate plea. As Nasreen Al-Masara, a mother struggling to protect my family of ten, I have endured unimaginable suffering since the escalation of the war in Gaza. In the past months, we have been displaced ten separate times, each move forced upon us by relentless bombing, shelling, or the looming threat of potential strikes. Each time we think we’ve found a temporary refuge, the violence pushes us further into uncertainty. We are struggling to survive in conditions no human being should ever have to endure.

The harsh reality of war has stripped us of the basic sense of home and safety. We carry only what we can, often leaving behind the little we manage to gather, as every new strike forces us into flight once again. The constant displacement has taken a toll not just physically, but emotionally and mentally. Every night, I see the fear in my children’s eyes, and every morning we wake up wondering where we will go next, or if we will even survive the day.

Access to food, clean water, and medical care is extremely limited. Simple needs—like bread, drinking water, or warm clothing—become daily battles. My family of ten, which includes children and elders, cannot meet these basic necessities without help. The war has destroyed jobs, collapsed infrastructure, and eliminated every means of survival we once relied on. At times, we go hungry. At times, we have no safe place to sleep. We are surviving moment to moment, and it has become unbearable without outside support.

I am not reaching out for luxuries, but for the chance to simply survive. Every dollar raised through this campaign will go directly toward feeding my family, finding temporary shelter, accessing clean water, and purchasing basic medical supplies. These are not optional comforts—they are the very means to keep my loved ones alive in a place where the future feels uncertain every single day.

The repeated displacements have left us vulnerable in ways that words can hardly capture. Imagine trying to comfort your children while bombs shake the ground around you, or trying to carry your elderly parent through rubble and smoke. This is the cruel reality my family has faced not once, but ten times over. Each time, we lose a little more hope, but I refuse to give up on the chance that kindness and humanity can still reach us, even in this darkest of times.

Your donation, no matter how small, is not just money—it is hope. It is food in the mouths of hungry children, water to quench thirst in unbearable heat, and a blanket against the cold nights we endure. Your support will make a difference in ways you might not imagine. It will remind us that, while the world around us crumbles, compassion still exists, and we are not forgotten.

Please consider donating to my GoFundMe and sharing my story with others. Every share, every contribution, every gesture of solidarity brings us closer to surviving this nightmare. On behalf of my family of ten, I thank you deeply for even reading this and for holding us in your thoughts. May your kindness return to you many times over.