Donate to Support our Resident and Survival During Gaza War

My name is Dema, and I am the mother of two beautiful boys, Bayan (5) and Merwan (3). Our life was once filled with love, laughter, and the warmth of family. Our home was a place where every corner held precious memories—where we dreamed of the future and cherished the little moments that made life sweet.

But on the 7th of October, everything changed. In an instant, our world was shattered. The bombs fell, and suddenly we found ourselves on the streets, forced to leave behind the home that had been our safe haven. We could only take with us the photos I had saved on my phone, a few fragile memories of the life we once had.

We wandered, desperately searching for shelter. The nights were cold, the darkness broken only by the terrifying flashes of bombings, and the sounds that echoed through the sky shook even the strongest of men. I could only hold my children close, trying to shield them from the horrors surrounding us. Bayan and Merwan, just little boys, were left trembling in fear, robbed of their innocence far too soon.

As a mother, I had one duty—to protect my children. But even that simple instinct has been tested in ways I never imagined. We lost our home, our belongings, and every bit of security we once had. And as the months passed, the weight of survival grew heavier.

Now, nearly a year has passed since that devastating day, and our struggles have only deepened. Every penny of our savings has been drained just to survive. What was once a temporary crisis has become our daily reality. Our routine has turned into a fight—finding shelter, securing food, hoping for a moment of peace in the midst of chaos. There are days when even the smallest things—like finding clean water or a safe place to rest—feel impossible.

Bayan, my eldest, has lost the light that used to shine so brightly in his eyes. He should be playing, learning, growing, but instead, he carries the weight of fear on his small shoulders. Merwan, my youngest, clings to me tighter each day, scared of the world that no longer feels safe. They are just children, but they have seen too much, and as their mother, it breaks my heart to watch them endure this suffering.

We have nothing left. No home. No savings. No stability. The war has taken everything, and I feel powerless to provide the protection and security my children deserve.

I am writing this, hoping that someone will hear our plea. We need help to find a place where my boys can sleep without fear, where their tears can turn back into laughter, and where they can feel the warmth of home once again. I don’t ask for much—just a chance to give my children the future they deserve, a future free from the terror of war.

Please, if you can, help us rebuild our lives. Every bit of support, every act of kindness, brings us closer to a new beginning. I hold on to hope because it is all we have left.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading. Please share our story with your friends who may help us.