The first rain of the season always came quietly in Gaza—soft at first, almost polite, until the sky could no longer hold itself together. Then the storm would break open, and the tents would tremble.
For Amal, winter meant a new set of battles. Not the kind with noise and smoke, but the slow, tiring battles against cold, dampness, and the fear of another night without warmth. Their tent stood on a patch of muddy ground, one of hundreds stretching across the field like a sea of white cloth and frayed ropes.
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Manshallah you got a beautiful sister or daughter , May Allah sw guide and may Allah sw strength hearts and may result be you being closer to. 💜