Celebrating Life in Gaza: Happy Birthday, Hayat!

Today marks one year since you entered this world. Your name, Hayat, means “life,” but this first year has been anything but. It’s been a year of grinding displacement, hunger, and struggle.

We’ve moved back and forth between Deir Al Balah and Rafah, never knowing where we’ll end up next. The only refuge I can promise you, my love, is my heart. If I could shield you inside of it, I would.

Hunger has been a daily battle. I’ve searched for baby formula, scoured markets for fruit, and celebrated the rare find of a banana or an apple. I’ve paid more than I could afford, but hunger leaves no room for choice.

Diapers have been just as elusive—hard to find and outrageously priced. But I’ve done what I must. Every parent would.

You’ve gone without the simple joys every child deserves. No toys. No colorful dolls to squabble over with your sister. No cozy home filled with warmth and comfort. No garden to run through, laughing and playing. No chocolate, no strawberries, no choice.

Clothes have become a burden, not a delight. Parents discuss them with worry. The seasons come and go, but the clothes don’t keep up.

Yet, through all of this, you smile. Your tiny hand on my face, your bright eyes—they give me strength. They remind me that nothing lasts forever, not even hardship.

Happy birthday, Hayat. Your name means life, and despite everything, you’ve shown us what it means to keep living.