Our family, especially my 9-year-old sister Maryam, is facing a brutal winter in Gaza.

While this season is meant for warmth, holidays, and comfort for many around the world, we face freezing nights, strong winds, and relentless rain surrounding us, with no real shelter for protection. Some nights, the cold is so severe that Maryam can't sleep.

Amazing artwork by Notte💖 @rhymeswithfart

Winter is here. We are drowning in our suffering, falling ill, and struggling in a life that offers us neither warmth nor comfort. This winter, the pain grows harsher, and our cries for help rise even before the sound of the wind.

Please help. Please consider donating to our family. We are in true and urgent need. 🙏

Our family, especially my 9-year-old sister Maryam, is facing a brutal winter in Gaza.

While this season is meant for warmth, holidays, and comfort for many around the world, we face freezing nights, strong winds, and relentless rain surrounding us, with no real shelter for protection. Some nights, the cold is so severe that Maryam can't sleep.

Amazing artwork by Notte💖 @rhymeswithfart

The rain seeps into everything, and the wind feels like it cuts straight through our bones. The sound of the wind, the dampness, and the fear of what the next storm will bring weigh heavily on her small shoulders. No one should have to endure this, especially not a child.😔

If you can help in any way, your support could mean warmth, dignity, and hope in a season that has taken so much from us. Please consider donating to our family today💝🙏❄️

Our family, especially my 9-year-old sister Maryam, is facing a brutal winter in Gaza.

While this season is meant for warmth, holidays, and comfort for many around the world, we face freezing nights, strong winds, and relentless rain surrounding us, with no real shelter for protection. Some nights, the cold is so severe that Maryam can't sleep.

Amazing artwork by Notte💖 @rhymeswithfart

The rain seeps into everything, and the wind feels like it cuts straight through our bones. The sound of the wind, the dampness, and the fear of what the next storm will bring weigh heavily on her small shoulders. No one should have to endure this, especially not a child.😔

Our family, especially my 9-year-old sister Maryam, is facing a brutal winter in Gaza.

While this season is meant for warmth, holidays, and comfort for many around the world, we face freezing nights, strong winds, and relentless rain surrounding us, with no real shelter for protection. Some nights, the cold is so severe that Maryam can't sleep.

Amazing artwork by Notte💖 @rhymeswithfart

The rain seeps into everything, and the wind feels like it cuts straight through our bones. The sound of the wind, the dampness, and the fear of what the next storm will bring weigh heavily on her small shoulders. No one should have to endure this, especially not a child.😔

This is not just an illustration it is our reality. Please keep Maryam, and my family, in your hearts.

If you can help in any way, your support could mean warmth, dignity, and hope in a season that has taken so much from us. Please consider donating to our family today💝🙏❄️

Our family, especially my 9-year-old sister Maryam, is facing a brutal winter in Gaza.

While this season is meant for warmth, holidays, and comfort for many around the world, we face freezing nights, strong winds, and relentless rain surrounding us, with no real shelter for protection. Some nights, the cold is so severe that Maryam can't sleep.

Amazing artwork by Notte💖 @rhymeswithfart

The rain seeps into everything, and the wind feels like it cuts straight through our bones. The sound of the wind, the dampness, and the fear of what the next storm will bring weigh heavily on her small shoulders. No one should have to endure this, especially not a child.😔

My beautiful sister Maryam,

She carried that beautiful name after my grandmother, may she rest in peace. To us, Maryam is the name of the mother of Jesus Christ " Virgin Mery " peace be upon him.

From Gaza City wishing everyone a happy and blessed year.

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year 🎄✨

Please stand by me and my family. We would not have made it this far without your kindness, help, and support.

Please help. Please consider donating to our family. We are in true and urgent need. Please donate now. 🙏

Many nights, Maryam is unable to sleep due to the extreme cold, rain, and wind. Your help is urgently needed. Please donate now. 🙏

My beautiful sister Maryam,

She carried that beautiful name after my grandmother, may she rest in peace. To us, Maryam is the name of the mother of Jesus Christ " Virgin Mery " peace be upon him.

From Gaza City wishing everyone a happy and blessed year.

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year 🎄✨

Please stand by me and my family. We would not have made it this far without your kindness, help, and support.

Please help. Please consider donating to our family. We are in true and urgent need. Please donate now. 🙏

Our beloved Maryam 💕 🙂

Maryam and her family are in urgent need of help. Please consider donating to support this family so they can survive and rebuild their lives. 🙏

Losing the home whose walls we grew up within the one that embraced our laughter and childhood dreams, and witnessed our simplest and most genuine moments is a pain beyond words, a weight upon the heart.

And yet, when I calm myself and take a deep breath, I realize that this pain, harsh as it is, can not compare to the sorrow of losing someone you love forever.

My mind drifted for a moment:

Do you realize how terrifying and tragic this war has become that we now find ourselves making such comparisons?

Please tell me… what do you think?

After everything we’ve been through over the past two years, there are still those who believe our tragedy has ended that we no longer need help, simply because there’s a fragile ceasefire, or because a few aid trucks have reached two million people who were deliberately and systematically starved for two years.

But the painful truth is that nothing has truly changed: the suffering continues, the hunger remains, and life is far from returning to normal. In fact, we are still a long way from that. The only thing that has changed is the form that our agony takes.

I think you’re right. This is the cruelest part of it all, that we’ve learned to call pain “endurable” only because there’s something worse.

It’s heartbreaking that war has forced us to measure pain to decide which loss hurts more when all of it is unbearable.

Your words capture something many feel but can’t express, the quiet grief of realizing that survival itself has become both a blessing and a burden.

If you'd like to make a difference this holiday season, I ask of you all to donate or boost Palestinian fundraisers! It won't take long and it's a good cause!

Losing the home whose walls we grew up within the one that embraced our laughter and childhood dreams, and witnessed our simplest and most genuine moments is a pain beyond words, a weight upon the heart.

And yet, when I calm myself and take a deep breath, I realize that this pain, harsh as it is, can not compare to the sorrow of losing someone you love forever.

My mind drifted for a moment:

Do you realize how terrifying and tragic this war has become that we now find ourselves making such comparisons?

Please tell me… what do you think?

After everything we’ve been through over the past two years, there are still those who believe our tragedy has ended that we no longer need help, simply because there’s a fragile ceasefire, or because a few aid trucks have reached two million people who were deliberately and systematically starved for two years.

But the painful truth is that nothing has truly changed: the suffering continues, the hunger remains, and life is far from returning to normal. In fact, we are still a long way from that. The only thing that has changed is the form that our agony takes.

I think you’re right. This is the cruelest part of it all, that we’ve learned to call pain “endurable” only because there’s something worse.

It’s heartbreaking that war has forced us to measure pain to decide which loss hurts more when all of it is unbearable.

Your words capture something many feel but can’t express, the quiet grief of realizing that survival itself has become both a blessing and a burden.

Winter is here, and our tent can no longer withstand it. We are drowning in our suffering falling ill and struggling in a life that offers us neither warmth nor comfort. This winter, the pain grows harsher, and our cries for help rise even before the sound of the wind.

Please help. Please consider donating to our family. We are in true and urgent need. Please donate now. 🙏

Hi..👋

Five days without a single donation. Five long days.

Bye 👋

9 days now 😔

Losing the home whose walls we grew up within the one that embraced our laughter and childhood dreams, and witnessed our simplest and most genuine moments is a pain beyond words, a weight upon the heart.

And yet, when I calm myself and take a deep breath, I realize that this pain, harsh as it is, can not compare to the sorrow of losing someone you love forever.

My mind drifted for a moment:

Do you realize how terrifying and tragic this war has become that we now find ourselves making such comparisons?

Please tell me… what do you think?

After everything we’ve been through over the past two years, there are still those who believe our tragedy has ended that we no longer need help, simply because there’s a fragile ceasefire, or because a few aid trucks have reached two million people who were deliberately and systematically starved for two years.

But the painful truth is that nothing has truly changed: the suffering continues, the hunger remains, and life is far from returning to normal. In fact, we are still a long way from that. The only thing that has changed is the form that our agony takes.

I think you’re right. This is the cruelest part of it all, that we’ve learned to call pain “endurable” only because there’s something worse.

It’s heartbreaking that war has forced us to measure pain to decide which loss hurts more when all of it is unbearable.

Your words capture something many feel but can’t express, the quiet grief of realizing that survival itself has become both a blessing and a burden.

Losing the home whose walls we grew up within the one that embraced our laughter and childhood dreams, and witnessed our simplest and most genuine moments is a pain beyond words, a weight upon the heart.

And yet, when I calm myself and take a deep breath, I realize that this pain, harsh as it is, can not compare to the sorrow of losing someone you love forever.

My mind drifted for a moment:

Do you realize how terrifying and tragic this war has become that we now find ourselves making such comparisons?

Please tell me… what do you think?

After everything we’ve been through over the past two years, there are still those who believe our tragedy has ended that we no longer need help, simply because there’s a fragile ceasefire, or because a few aid trucks have reached two million people who were deliberately and systematically starved for two years.

But the painful truth is that nothing has truly changed: the suffering continues, the hunger remains, and life is far from returning to normal. In fact, we are still a long way from that. The only thing that has changed is the form that our agony takes.

A ceasefire doesn’t rebuild what’s been destroyed, and a handful of aid trucks can’t undo years of hunger and loss. Please help and donate now 🙏 💜

Losing the home whose walls we grew up within the one that embraced our laughter and childhood dreams, and witnessed our simplest and most genuine moments is a pain beyond words, a weight upon the heart.

And yet, when I calm myself and take a deep breath, I realize that this pain, harsh as it is, can not compare to the sorrow of losing someone you love forever.

My mind drifted for a moment:

Do you realize how terrifying and tragic this war has become that we now find ourselves making such comparisons?

Please tell me… what do you think?

After everything we’ve been through over the past two years, there are still those who believe our tragedy has ended that we no longer need help, simply because there’s a fragile ceasefire, or because a few aid trucks have reached two million people who were deliberately and systematically starved for two years.

But the painful truth is that nothing has truly changed: the suffering continues, the hunger remains, and life is far from returning to normal. In fact, we are still a long way from that. The only thing that has changed is the form that our agony takes.

I think you’re right. This is the cruelest part of it all, that we’ve learned to call pain “endurable” only because there’s something worse.

It’s heartbreaking that war has forced us to measure pain to decide which loss hurts more when all of it is unbearable.

Your words capture something many feel but can’t express, the quiet grief of realizing that survival itself has become both a blessing and a burden.

The truth is, nothing has ended the suffering has simply been pushed out of sight, and we’re left to carry it alone. Please help us and donate now 🙏 🇵🇸💜

Important reminder: just because there has been a ceasefire absolutely does not mean you can stop sharing, stop supporting, and stop listening to the stories of the people of Gaza.

When the dust settles, the people of Gaza are all left in ruin. Those who even have a home to come back to are a minority, and the rest need to find the will and the means to rebuild and move on with their lives. And that cannot come out of nothing.

Please don't forget the people of Gaza. More than anything please keep supporting them.

(@drdarine home before and after devastation)

Gaza today is a city of ruins. Our home is gone, just a pile of rubble. And it’s not only our house. The entire neighborhood of "Shujaiyya" has turned into a graveyard of stones. No streets, no walls, no Sewage system, nothing left that carries the scent of life.

Now, we live in a small tent. Even the ground beneath it isn’t ours we rent it. Every day, we try to make this piece of fabric feel like a home, and I hold onto patience as if it were a roof above my head. They broke our already broken hearts. They left us with a pain words can’t describe.

A ceasefire doesn’t rebuild what’s been destroyed, and a handful of aid trucks can’t undo years of hunger and loss. Please help and donate now 🙏 💜