Help Build a New Life:Support a Young Gazan Family

A Father's Broken Heart: Don't Let My Children Become Casualties of War

My name is Anis, and every breath I take is laced with a terror I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I am a father in Gaza, a husband desperately trying to shield his family from the horrors that surround us. I was a builder, you see, proud to construct homes brick by brick. Now, the world I built for my wife, Baraa, and our precious children lies shattered, reduced to rubble like so many dreams in this broken place.

Our home in Rafah, filled with the echoes of laughter and the warmth of family meals, is gone. In its place, a canvas tent, a flimsy barrier against the relentless fear that permeates every aspect of our lives. Tens of thousands huddle alongside us in these makeshift camps, united by loss, haunted by the ghosts of a life we once knew.

My daughter, Jojo, just seven years old, with eyes that once sparkled with mischief, now asks when the nightmares will end. When can we go home, she asks, her small voice breaking my heart anew. Our four-year-old twins, Lily and Moe, their laughter now a fleeting melody drowned out by the symphony of war, cling to us, their tiny bodies trembling with a fear no child should ever know. And baby Liam, our precious one-year-old, born into this living hell, his cries echoing the cries of a nation under siege. He deserves so much more than this. They all do.

Our first tent, a beacon of hope in the darkness, was incinerated before our eyes, another casualty of the relentless bombing. We live each day haunted by the specter of hunger, our throats parched with thirst, our hearts heavy with the knowledge that tomorrow may bring even more suffering.

Before the war, I was a provider. My work, my pride, allowed me to give my family the life they deserved. Now, our savings have evaporated like the morning mist, leaving us clinging to the edge of survival. The war has stolen our present and threatens to steal our future.

I am begging you, pleading with every fiber of my being, to help us. This fundraiser is our lifeline, a desperate attempt to cling to hope in the face of despair. My dear friend Bobbi, a beacon of light in our darkest hour, has set up this campaign, ensuring every dollar you donate reaches us directly, providing a lifeline to my family.

Please, don't let my children become just another statistic, another tragic story lost in the cacophony of war. Your generosity, no matter how small, can make an immeasurable difference. Help us rebuild our lives, piece by fragile piece. Help us shield our children from the horrors that surround them. Help us give them back their laughter, their innocence, their future.

Thank you for seeing us, for hearing our plea. Thank you for standing with us in our darkest hour.

With eternal gratitude,

Anis