"I asked chatgpt-" ok well I asked aloy and she said she'd check it out if she was in the area before doing a sick flip onto her sunwing and soaring away
My name is Jihad. I am a father… but a broken one.
I live in a torn, worn-out tent with my two children — Saleh and Hussein. We used to have a home. We used to have a life. Until a missile took everything from us.
We were pulled from under the rubble. Alive, yes — but something inside us died that day.
My son Saleh can no longer walk. His leg was crushed, and I can’t afford his treatment. He looks at me and says, “Baba… when will I run again?”
I smile at him through my tears… and then turn away so he doesn’t see me cry.
Hussein, my little one, had his hand injured during the war. He can’t use it anymore. He used to draw pictures. Now he hides his arm under his blanket and cries at night.
We have nothing left. We have fled from one place to another, running from death, only to end up in a place the world calls a “red zone” — an active war zone, where each night could be our last.
We are not living. We are simply surviving. And some days… not even that.
Have you ever watched your child scream in pain and had nothing — not even a bandage — to offer?
Have you ever told your child there is no food — again?
Have you ever prayed not for comfort, but just to stay alive one more night?
All I ask is this: Don’t look away.
If you are reading this, and your child is safe, healthy, and smiling — hug them. Then please, think of mine.
Any amount can help. A meal. A blanket. A step toward treatment.
Help me give Saleh a chance to walk again. Help me give Hussein a reason to smile.
Before we are buried again… this time, not under rubble — but under silence.
My name is Fayez, and I am a father of three children in Gaza. I never thought I’d beg strangers to help, but here I am. We are surrounded by destruction. Food has become a dream. Water is scarce. Hope is fading.
I was injured in the war. But nothing hurts more than seeing my children go to bed hungry — night after night.
🙏💧 I am begging you — not for comfort, not for money — but for a meal, a chance, a small mercy.
Please donate. Or at least, please share this message. Let someone, somewhere, hear our cry.
"When the house falls, the voice remains"
— A message from Gaza, written by Abdelmajid ✍️
In a time where news is just numbers, and images pass in seconds,
there are faces that remain.
I am one of them.
My name is Abdelmajid.
I don't carry an extraordinary story — I share what has sadly become ordinary in Gaza:
Waking up to find no roof above me 🏚️, calling out to my mother and hearing no reply 💔, surviving a certain death… only to face the daily battle to live.
We used to believe war was a moment that would pass.
But we’ve learned it may begin… and never end.
It doesn’t just take homes — it takes childhood, voices, the faces we love.
Since that day, I no longer have a little world called my room.
No key. No quiet corner.
What remains?
Fragments of memory… and a flicker of hope I carry every time my niece looks at me and asks, "Why did this happen to us?" 👧
I’m not writing for pity,
nor for passing sadness.
I write because we need a voice — someone to carry our story back into the rhythm of this loud world 🌍
You may not be able to end the war,
but you can ease its cruelty on those who survived.
You can extend a hand to someone trying to rebuild from rubble 🤝
My name is Abedmajed Elderawi, and I live in Gaza with what remains of my once large and loving family.
Whether you donate, share, or simply read these words to the end — your action may go unseen by cameras, but it makes a real difference ✨
For authenticity, Abdelmajid is verified and listed as #537 on the GazaVetters trusted vetting list. ✅
From my heart, and from the heart of Gaza:
Thank you for still seeing the human behind the headlines 🕊️
🏚️ From Rubble to Renewal — Help Mohamed Rebuild a Home Full of Hope 🌿
In the blink of an eye, the life we knew disappeared.
My name is Mohamed, and I’m writing this with a heart full of sorrow—but also a quiet flame of hope. Our family home, a place that held generations of memories, was reduced to rubble in an instant. The rooms that once echoed with laughter, the walls that witnessed our stories, and the garden where we dreamed of better days—all of it is gone.
And yet, we are still here.
Still standing. Still believing. Still dreaming.
Before the war, our home wasn’t just a structure—it was everything. It was the heartbeat of our family. We shared countless dinners around a modest table, whispered goodnight to one another across quiet rooms, and celebrated the small joys that made life meaningful. It was a place of love, of safety, of tradition.
Losing it has left a deep wound in our lives. But what we haven’t lost is our will to rebuild.
We are determined not to let destruction be the end of our story. We want to rebuild our home not just with bricks and wood, but with faith, with dignity, and with your support.
I know there are countless stories in the world that deserve to be heard, and I humbly ask that you take a moment to hear ours. We are turning to this community, to the kindness of strangers, because we believe in the power of people coming together to lift one another out of despair.
Your support—whether it’s a donation, a share, or even just a moment of your time—can help lay the first stone of our new beginning.
💛 Every dollar brings us one step closer to safety.
🧱 Every share gives our story a voice.
🌱 Every gesture, no matter how small, is a reminder that compassion can grow even in the harshest soil.
We are not asking for charity. We are asking for a chance. A chance to rebuild our lives, to give our children a roof under which they can dream again, and to find peace after so much pain.
In the blink of an eye, everything we knew and loved w… Mohammed Altelbani needs your support for A Plea for Hope: Rebuilding Our Ho
Please, if you feel moved by our story, consider helping us build something new from what’s been lost. Your kindness will be felt not just in concrete and wood—but in every smile, every warm night, and every future moment of joy that your support helps make possible.
From the deepest part of my heart—thank you.
For your time, your love, and your belief in us.
We will never forget it.
jacobvanloon
janainaart
tangentwithtanner
blakekathryn
