Dear Esteemed Donors,
My name is Ahmad , and I am a 14-year-old resident of Khan Yoā¦ Ahmad W needs your support for Help Gaza Families Secu
Vetted!!!
(#167 on the verified fundraiser list by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi) (but we had to make a new gfm campaign cuz our old organizer stopped contacting us).
I've been working on getting top surgery. I'm obviously incredibly excited about it, but the dysphoria has also sharpened as being flat-chested is becoming a nearer reality. The frustration with setting up this surgery has coalesced into this piece, where I just want to do it myself
Needle felting, traditional and stumpwork embroidery, about 1/3 of Van Gogh's "Irises." The needle felted Monet I did didn't make it into the show, but this one did. "They Were Violet."
Made this out of old jeans that my friend no longer wanted, a striped shirt from the same friend, white bias tape cut from a shirt I found in the trash, and fixed the button with a washer I found on the ground.
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.
šļø Please Take a Moment to Read Nadinās Story
My name is Nadin. I never imagined I would write something like this. Iāve always been someone who kept her worries quiet, someone who believed that even the hardest days could be endured with patience and faith. But right now, I am reaching out ā not because I want to, but because I need to.
I am a wife, a mother, and one of many women in Gaza trying to survive days that feel like they have no end. There was a short time ā a brief ceasefire ā where we thought things might start to heal. Where the sound of war faded for just long enough to let us breathe. But that moment is gone now, and the fear has returned louder than before.
My days are filled with uncertainty, and my nights with prayer. We have lost so much. Our home was damaged, our sense of safety taken from us. But through all of this, I try to keep going. I try to hold on to what little peace I can create with my hands, my words, and my love.
I am not asking for much. Just a little help to keep our lives from falling further apart. To fix the small things ā a cracked wall, a leaking roof, the pieces of daily life that help us hold on to dignity.
This campaign isnāt just about survival. Itās about holding on to what makes us human in a place that keeps trying to take that away. Itās about showing my daughter ā even though I wonāt mention her name here ā that the world didnāt forget us.
If youāve ever felt powerless in the face of suffering, please know that even the smallest gesture can carry great meaning. A kind word. A shared post. A quiet donation. These things remind us that weāre not alone.
My name is Nadin Iām a mother, a wife, and just one of many women in Gaza who are trying to hold on ā to hope, to our families, to any piece
I am still here. Still holding on. Still believing that people out there ā people like you ā still care.
Please, if you feel moved, consider supporting or sharing this campaign.
Dear friends, kind hearts, and everyone who has stood with us,
When I first opened my heart to the world and shared our story, I never imagined the amount of love and solidarity we would receive. Thanks to your incredible support, weāve now reached $12,837āa milestone that brings real light to some very dark days.
From the deepest corners of my heart, thank you.
š A Journey of Loss, but Also of Strength
As many of you know, Iāve lost 25 of my loved ones during this devastating war. That grief lives with me every single day. Itās in the silence that once held laughter, in the empty spaces where we once gathered as a family.
But through your help, Iāve also felt something else: hope. And that hope is priceless.
ā21/Oct/2023 Before It Reached Us: The Day Our Neighborās House Was Destroyedā
A quiet moment of fear, filmed just before everything changed.
ā22/Oct/2023 The Morning After: Our Family Home in Ruinsā
This is what was left behind after the bombing of our home.
šæ What Life Looks Like for Us Now
Despite everything, weāre still here.
Still surviving. Still hoping.
But things have only gotten harder.
The war has returned, more brutal than beforeāand for over a month now, Gaza has been completely sealed off. No food is coming in. No medical supplies. No aid. No trade. No one is allowed to leave, and no one is allowed to enter.
Your support reminds us that weāre not forgotten. It reminds us that someone, somewhere, is still listening. That someone still cares. That weāre not completely alone in this.
Every message. Every share. Every dollar. It tells us:
Youāre walking this road with us.
And that gives us the strength to keep going.
š What You Can Do
If youāve already donatedāthank you beyond words.
If you can share our story again, it could reach someone who can help.
Even $5 means warmth, comfort, and a chance to breathe a little easier.
My name isĀ Mosab Elderawi, and I am a survivor of the war in Gaza. Life as I knew it has been completely destroyed. I have lost my home, my
āØ Why It All Matters
This isnāt just about reaching a fundraising goal. Itās about surviving war with dignity.
Itās about believing in tomorrow. Itās about making sure my daughter grows up knowing that the world did not look away.
Thank you for your kindness, patience, and belief in our humanity.
Youāve helped me find my voiceāand I will use it to keep hope alive.
š From the Heart: A Quiet Apology
Thereās something I need to sayāsomething thatās been on my heart for some time.
When I first began sharing our story, I didnāt know what the right way was. I was scared, grieving, and trying to protect my family in any way I could. I reached out to many people, hoping someone, anyone, would see us. In that process, I now realize I may have overstepped, and I might have made some feel overwhelmed.
If that happened, I am truly sorry.
Please believe me when I say it was never out of disregard or pushiness. It came from a place of fearāfear of being forgotten, fear of not being able to keep my family safe, fear of watching everything I love slip away in silence.
Iām learning as I go. Iāve slowed down. Iām more mindful now, trying to share our journey in a way that feels respectful of the space and hearts of those listening.
If my words ever came at the wrong time, or in the wrong way, I hope you can understand where they came fromāand I hope you can forgive me.
Thank you for seeing past my mistakes. Thank you for still being here. It means more than I can ever explain.
With love and endless gratitude,
Mosab and family ā„ļø
