Give So They Can Live: Evac for Dalia's Family

Have you seen the video of a man giving two young kids in G@za a couple packages of snacks? When he offers to give them more they ask him "..but what about your children?" He replies:

"all children in G@za are my children."



If you're like me, it feels impossible to be caring for my child without feeling the parents in G@za whose little ones are starving, hurt, traumatized, gone forever. Can we act as if all children in G@za are all of our children?

This gofundme is an offering for all of us who feel powerless inside of the deranged political landscape of this moment. It comes out of a web woven over many years. In 2015 I met and fell in love with a P@lestinian who has become my lifelong chosen family. Their brother's family miraculously survived their house being bombed and is currently trapped with one million other families in R@fah with no way out.

His cousin Dalia says "My mother wants to see my little sisters, Malak (13) and Leen (6), to grow under her eye without being harmed, living out whatever dreams they may have one day. She dreams of reuniting us with my dad under one roof."

Through this familial web I and we are linked - this family is my family is our family. If this war has felt far away, here is the link - you are one degree away from a family who is praying they make it through the week.

If we don't raise the full amount, it will mean the family must separate, choosing who to send and who stays. I am asking you to feel into what amount you're able to send and then consider doubling it. I invite you to weigh the financial sacrifice against the sacrifice of our morals, our humanity.

In solidarity and with hope and belief in us,

Kate, On behalf of

Dalia, Hadeel, Mariam, Mohammed, Muhannad, Malak, Leen, and their mother

UPDATE: I'm adjusting the goal based on donations we are receiving from outside of gofundme.

Here's Dalia's full direct ask:

Marhaba (Hello), my name is Dalia. I am 23 years old, and I am from G@za. I graduated with a degree in English Literature. I am now displaced, along with my younger sisters, Hadeel and Mariam, my mother, and young brothers, Mohammed and Muhannad, in the European Hospital. My father has been outside of G@za for years.

Every one of us has a dream that we each aspire to. Always hoping to see their path with clarity and to not stumble along the way. I’m the firstborn daughter of my father and mother, which places the responsibilities of a father on me to help my mother in his absence.

So many dreams and aspirations, but there is one thing that attempts to strip you of everything: The Occupation. Even at my young age, I’ve lived through multiple wars. The siege that we are living under. The difficulty of traveling each time we attempt to obtain a good opportunity for a better life.

The experience of being displaced with my family from the North to the South, and crossing the Isr*eli military checkpoint are among the hardest experiences on my heart and upon my family. There is a constant fear of losing someone the instant a soldier decides to kill us without reason. The fear of becoming lost or of half the family leaving and the other half staying behind. Our dreams collapse and fall through our fingers, like sand in the palm of your hand.

After reaching the European Hospital, our suffering did not end, we merely began a new experience of living, of fearing death anew, and of losing your dreams because of a bomb that kills you. I used to aspire to pursue a masters degree, like any person who aims to continue their professional and educational path, but the aggression prevented me from achieving this dream. My brother, Mohammed, was supposed to finish high school this year, like any young person wanting to build a future, but the aggression prevented him. My sister, Hadeel, was supposed to continue her studies in dentistry, in order to become a dentist, but the occupation stole a year of her life. My sister, Mariam, was supposed to complete her studies in medicine, but the occupation stole a year of her life, too. My brother, Muhannad, was supposed to continue treatment for a brain tumor, but there is no treatment for him now, because the war hinders everything, while only taking people’s souls.

Our home in Shujayieh was beautiful, full of warm memories. We had a farm full of the sounds of sheep and chickens, but the occupation came like a storm. It bombed our home, which was overflowing with happiness, and bulldozed our farm, which we considered our homeland. And we lost our father’s livelihood in an instant. He owned a car showroom full of spare car parts, with several thousands of dollars of merchandise that were gone in a blink of an eye, all turned to dust.

This campaign is a lifeline for me and my family of 8 to evacuate G@za, to enable us to cross the border to Egyp+.

We are here in G@za trying to tell the world that we have dreams that we want to live far away from death. We have not fully lived our lives yet, and each of us has a unique story that they wish to live. We do not wish for death, all we want is life.

Every dollar brings us closer to safety, and every donation brings us one step closer to the hope of staying alive.