I was writing to you yesterday, on the forty seventh day, on the details of the daily struggle after they took us ages back in time to where we use the oldest and most primitive tools to get by…

My husband lit a fire on top of the house, and we made some tea. Everybody woke up, and we had some Zaatar (thyme) and zeit (oil), and those are what was left from our stored food.

My niece is 3 and a half years old and she is as sweet as butterflies. She is also mischievous, and loves to have fun and dress well. And she LOVES ice cream!

I cannot believe I am seeing the light of day! I feel for my arm! My face!
I open my eyes and close them, then I open them again to ensure that what I am seeing is real. 

Studying psychology, we learned that one of the characteristics of a traumatic event is that it is sudden and unplanned for.

The Smell of Gunpowder: There are two kinds of killing we are exposed to daily and always from this criminal usurper.

While we are in the twilight zone between life and death, I find myself recalling my memories and remembering my life. 

I welcomed my birthday as we are stifled under the strongest, most difficult attack we faced in our combat history. I say our combat history because we, or at least I, have witnessed many wars and aggressions that the sieged Gaza Strip has lived for many years.

Raji is the youngest of my siblings. My little brother is a sensitive and warm person. He’s ambitious and has a big dream to become a civil engineer. Raji loves life, soccer, and playing with our niece, Elia. 

Here I write to you with honest feelings and heavy emotions. I, like any person on this earth, have unfulfilled ambitions and dreams. Today I share my pain over education and educators. Oh how passionate I am about knowledge and learning!