šø From One Motherās Heart ā Please Read šø
My name is Saja. Iām a wife, a mother, and a woman who once believed her story would be simple. I thought my days would be filled with watching my daughter grow ā from her first smile to her first steps ā surrounded by the small joys of everyday life.
But life had other plans.
War has returned to our home. Again.
And once again, we find ourselves living under skies that never seem to rest.
There was a moment ā a fragile, breathless moment ā when the bombs paused and the world seemed to remember us. It gave us hope. We thought maybe, just maybe, we could start to rebuild. But now, we are back in the dark ā hiding, holding on, praying.
Iām writing this not as someone seeking pity, but as a mother who has no other choice but to speak.
Imagine holding your baby in the middle of the night, not because she cried, but because the world outside roared too loud for either of you to sleep. Imagine whispering bedtime stories not to lull her into dreams, but to keep the fear from settling into her tiny bones.
This is my life.
This is my daughterās life.
And even now ā especially now ā I believe in softness. I believe in kindness.
Because when everything else is taken from you, hope becomes the most valuable thing you have.
Why Iām Reaching Out
Our home has been damaged. Our lives changed. But through it all, my daughter wakes up every morning with a smile. She reaches for me with trust, with love, with faith that I will keep her safe.
Thatās why I keep going.
Iāve launched a campaign to ask for help ā not because itās easy, but because silence is no longer an option. I am asking for support not just for me, but for my baby, and for the quiet strength of so many mothers like me who are fighting, every single day, to hold their families together.
How You Can Help:
š¤ Help us restore parts of our home so we can live with dignity
š¤ Support women and mothers in Gaza with access to care and resources
š¤ Keep the light of hope alive for a generation born in the shadows of war
š If you can, please support our journey here:
My name is Saja. I am a wife, a mother to a precious 8-month-old girl, and I am writing this in a moment that I wish I didnāt have to live t
If you canāt give, please consider sharing.
Your voice might be the reason someone else hears ours.
From My Heart to Yours
Maybe our lives are worlds apart. Maybe youāve never lived through war.
But if youāve ever held a child and wished the world could be better for them ā then you understand more than you know.
I donāt want my daughter to grow up thinking the world turned away.
Please, if youāve read this far ā thank you.
Thank you for seeing us. Thank you for caring.
We are still here. Still hoping. Still holding on to every kind act like itās a lifeline.
once in high school, we were instructed to each write an essay on our prediction of each other's futuresāa prophecy if you will. i was excited to think about what i think my classmates' lives will be like in a few years, but mostly i was anticipating(?) on reading their version of future meā
do they think what i think? guess that's what scares me the most.
it was for sure easier to imagine others' futures than my own, and when i imagine theirs in my head, they're always striving, full of hope, they're exactly where they wanted to beāit was easy because i believed in them. and i believed in them because they weren't me. and i figured since they weren't me, they can do anything. anything and everything, without this godforsaken brain of mine that seems to loathe its own existence.
clearly, i was still at my lowest at that point in time. it was near impossible to imagine myself happy and striving (let alone be alive) in a couple years. but wow, even i was surprised at the fact that i found myself silently wishing and expecting that somehow i end up what i actually dreamed of beingāwhen i still dreamedāin my classmates' prophecy.
i certainly wish they don't think what i think.
and even if they had written it in a positive way out of the goodness of their hearts, i'd take it.
why is trying to make a new friend so embarrassing. hi. me again. asking for your attention once more even though i am literally just some random person to you. it's because i want to be not just a random person to you. please understand
germansingergirl
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