In a corner of the Gaza Strip, young children with tear-filled eyes bid farewell to their father, who had gone out in search of a morsel to feed them, but never returned. Today, the man was martyred as a result of the occupation's shelling, leaving behind a void larger than words can express, and a shock etched into the hearts of the children that time will never erase.

Little hearts torn by grief The crying was an agony beyond measure, with the children’s tears falling on his cold hands, as if trying to hold on to his body and stop him from leaving. Their small hearts shattered with sorrow, and their eyes questioned why he left without saying goodbye, why hunger and oppression had become constant companions in their lives.

A farewell turned into a painful story The farewell became a poignant tale, told by every stone and corner of the house, measured through the children’s eyes and tears, carved into the memory of those still alive, becoming a lasting reminder of loss and unending pain.

In the small room, pale faces met an empty plate, while the echo of the father’s cry cast shadows on every corner. Hunger was not merely the lack of food, but a sense of abandonment, the cruelty of life leaving them with nothing but pain and waiting.

A bitter life of deprivation Every passing moment felt like a lifetime of deprivation. The children tried to hold onto his memory, to feel the warmth of his hand that was no longer with them, while the air carried the scent of sorrow, as if everything around them moaned at his loss. Here, in the heart of this suffering, the bitter truth emerges: lives torn apart by siege and bombardment, children waiting for a father who will never return, with memories lingering on pale faces and hearts suspended between hunger and lost hope.