In the midst of the chaos and uncertainty of Gaza under assault, I find myself in a small, dimly lit shelter with my two precious boys, their innocent eyes wide with fear.

The distant sounds of explosions and gunfire serve as a constant reminder of the perilous world beyond these walls. Despite my own exhaustion and anxiety, I remain resolute, determined to shield my children from the horrors unfolding outside. I softly sing lullabies, my voice trembling, hoping the loving tones will soothe my little ones to sleep. I rock them gently, my heart heavy with the weight of responsibility, knowing that in this moment, I am their beacon of hope in the midst of darkness.

As the hours drag on, I fight back exhaustion. My eyelids are heavy, but I dare not close them. Every distant rumble, sends a shiver down my spine.

I grip my sons a little tighter.

To distract them, I create stories of heroes and adventure, painting a world of wonder and magic amidst the chaos. My tired eyes meet those of my children, their trust and dependence on me unwavering.

In this struggle to stay awake, I find a strength I never knew I possessed, driven by a fierce determination to protect and comfort my little boys, even in the darkest of times.