杏MAP导航

By Hilda Joseph Ayyad - Gaza*

On this night, which was supposed to be a celebration of the beginning of a new decade of my life, my twentieth year that I had always imagined filled with life and opportunities, I am enveloped by a profound sense of alienation and loss.

Twenty years have become a faded memory amidst the rubble of the past. My home, which witnessed the dreams of my childhood and youth, is now just a painful image in my memory.

Two entire years of my life, the most precious years of beginnings and formation, have evaporated in the midst of this cruel and merciless ordeal. They were stolen from me and from many of my generation, a generation that dreamed of building a bright future, only to find itself captive to compelling circumstances.

Sometimes I feel like a young woman in her twenties, but my soul carries the burden of much older years. I cannot return to the past as it was, to the days when my dreams were simple and attainable, nor can I live my present in peace, for every corner reminds me of what I have lost. The future seems hazy, filled with bitter questions for which I have no answers.

But even in this deep darkness, a faint spark of hope illuminates my path. I refuse to surrender to despair while I am at the beginning of my life.

I am still waiting, with a heart heavy with wounds but beating with determination, for the moment this nightmare that suffocates our dreams will end.

I await the day when I can inhale the scent of freedom, take my first steps towards building my stolen future, and reclaim the lost years of my youth with doubled joy and greater strength.

This twentieth birthday of mine is not a celebration of years, but a stand of steadfastness and defiance. It is a reminder of the heavy price we have paid from our youth and our dreams, but it is also a declaration of our solid will to remain and hope for a tomorrow that brings with it justice, peace, and compensation for all that has been lost.

I wish from the depths of my heart, at the beginning of this new decade of my life, that the coming days will bring an end to this suffering, that warmth and safety will return to our homes, and that we, the youth of this generation, will be able to reclaim our dreams and build a future worthy of our sacrifices.

Pray for us.

* A Christian refugee at the Holy Family Catholic Church in Gaza - Article orginally published on L'Osservatore Romano on May 19, 2025