I saw a newborn baby on my phone yesterday.
From Gaza.
She was tiny. Newborn tiny. The kind of small that still feels unreal, like life has only just arrived.
Her face was burned from a blast.
Red and swollen. Skin trying to heal in a place where healing is almost impossible.
And she was crying. Not the restless cry of hunger.
Not the soft sound babies make when they need sleep.
This was pain.
The kind that has nowhere to go.
And something uncomfortable crossed my mind.
When I’m sick, care comes automatically.
There is medicine. There is someone checking in.
There is reassurance that the pain will pass.
I don’t have to earn that care. It just exists.
But for this baby, nothing is guaranteed.
Not treatment. Not safety.
Not even that someone will still be there tomorrow.
Some of these babies are burned, injured and starving
before they are old enough to understand what any of that means.
They don’t know why it hurts. They don’t know why they’re cold.
They don’t know why the arms that once held them are gone.
They only know the world feels harsh, early, and unforgiving.
And that’s the part that stays with me.
Because childhood is meant to be protected.
Instead, for so many children in Gaza, it has been stripped down to survival.
This is why sponsoring children like that newborn matters.
Not as an idea. As a presence.
When you sponsor an orphaned child in Gaza, you become the constant in a life that has lost everything stable.
You make sure food arrives regularly.
You help secure medical care when their bodies are already overwhelmed.
You provide warmth, safety, and something these children rarely feel anymore: reliability.
Not a one-time moment. Ongoing care.
You become the reason a child is not facing their worst days alone.
I believe this deeply:
If we can stand in for what war has taken away, even for one child. That matters.
These children have already lost enough.
With your help, they don’t have to lose the chance to heal too.
Please consider sponsoring an orphaned child in Gaza.
Be the steady presence their life has been missing.
Be the care that doesn’t disappear.
For the children who need someone to stay,
Hafsa
