ALTI sat down to light a fire to warm my children, but the rain was pouring heavily. The wood got soaked and would no longer catch fire.
My little ones were shivering in front of me, helpless and weak. All I had were a few matchsticks... and the clothes I wore.
I won’t deny that for a moment I thought about taking off my jacket and burning it to warm them, but that jacket was all I had.
I looked at my wife; she was shaking violently, her lips turning blue from the biting cold. I tried to cover her and the children with a thin, worn-out blanket, but the winter’s chill was stronger.
In that moment, I felt completely powerless, the reality here in Gaza is more than I can bear alone.
Suddenly, an idea came to me: in a dilapidated shack behind our camp, covered with tin and zinc, we started running and racing because the heat generated by movement could give us some temporary warmth.
We played, laughed, and warmed their small bodies, if only for a little while.
My wife whispered to me, “Will we soon be able to rent a warm home where our children feel true warmth?”
Today, we are doing everything we can to rent a small, warm home for our children, but we are still short of the amount needed. Financially, this is the biggest obstacle standing between us and leaving the tent.
ayooshdream008
