Have you ever wished for nothing more than a faucet of water, just to wash the dust of life off your hands?
Have you ever known what it means for the door of your home to be gone—taking with it everything that once sheltered you from the world?
In Gaza, rain no longer brings good tidings, but fear.
Each drop could flood a tent, and every gust of wind could steal sleep from shivering children.
In the cold, there is no closet to keep the clothes—only worn-out bags hiding what’s left of two years’ warmth.
Electricity? It has become a memory.
The last time a light was turned on, or a TV came to life, feels like another lifetime.
And the home built with dreams, sweat, and years—turned in a moment into rubble, into dust from an unforgettable memory.
And yet…
From beneath the ruins, voices still rise saying: “Alhamdulillah — praise be to God, in all circumstances.”
Not because the pain is small, but because faith is greater.
Not because life is easy, but because we believe God sees, and patience is never lost.