Gaza, Worn Down by War… Resists Sorrow with the Hope of Will The Christmas Tree in Gaza… A Story Told by Witnessing Branches

In the Holy Family Church in the heart of Gaza, between walls worn down by years of shelling, the nuns stood hanging Christmas decorations with hands trembling slightly from the cold and heavily burdened by grief. The tree was not just a tree; it was a silent witness to years of blockade and to long nights when fear slept beside the children.

Every branch told a story, and every light was a small ornament on the vast darkness sown by a miserable war. Every shining bauble resembled a wish.

Here, in Gaza, decorations are not hung like in other cities around the world. Here, they are hung with a spirit that resists and a heart that knows joy is not impossible, only delayed. Each shining bauble on the tree resembled a wish suspended in the air, and every star at the top reminded the people of Gaza that the sky, despite all the smoke, was still there… waiting to be seen in peace.

They Seek Their Right

The people of Gaza do not possess many of life’s essentials, yet they create life from the simplest details. They craft hope from fragments of light and weave joy from the remnants of better days. They do not ask for the impossible; they only ask for their natural right: To live on their land, by their land, and in their land, without fear of a sudden strike, or a final farewell… without a date.

Every branch on this Christmas tree is a witness to the devastation wrought by war, yet it is also a testament to the stubbornness of life. Gaza, which has known death more than it should, still knows how to plant joy despite its scarcity, and how to teach the world that hope does not require abundance, only a living heart.

The Christmas tree in Gaza is not a seasonal decoration; it is a story of a place clinging to life, and of a time passing through sorrow and patience. It is a silent message that says: We are here… the owners of the land, we do not leave it, nor abandon it, no matter how fierce the storms. Between the light, the tree, and the church, a small promise is born that Gaza, despite everything, is still capable of loving life… and teaching it to others.