Ramadan has come to destroy Gaza. While the whole world begins with changes in each month of fasting with prayer, we do this with sorrow and sorrow.
The same warflow of the battle. There is no sure that this ceiling will last. People are worried about what happens. Afraid of the war can come back.
Memorization and suffering of the testimony and meeting last year is hanging in our thoughts.
Last year wasn't the first time to see Ramadan during the war. In 2014, I was only nine years old, but I'm very remembered how much our nights of Ramadan was full of air and destruction and how we left our home in the dark, I run away from the bomb for our area.
But Ramadan last year was different. It wasn't very bad. Hunger was all over. We stuck all the day, but just breaking up very quickly with humus or beans or beans. Without electricity, we can chew a wave of food in the dark. We did not see each other's faces on the table.
We stayed away from many of our brothers. Grandmother and the teens I used to Ramadan had been scattered in various places, some of refuge in tents, and some were folded northwest. The diametes was different from isolation.
Ramadan was injured due to his happy spirit. We longed to hear Adhan (calling prayer) to a magolic before or in Fajr before you start. But those words didn't come. An estimate of each of the destruction. There are people who want to do, but they were afraid of – fear that the sound of their words will bring the beat, to make them up.
Instead of frying a quick-fashioned meezin words on a nearby mosque, we resolved to bad hazards and guns.
Before the war, I live with my family to the mosque after a KangTar to pray and see our loved ones. After that, we run on the gay streets, enjoying a good lump before home to change.
Last year, though, there were anywhere we would have prayed to pray for their slaughter.
Even if the biggest lady, one of my beautiful Gazaist, where my father and my family was found at last ten of Ramadan, after the ruins they were identified. A place used to be spoken by prayers and peace was turned into dust and debris.
Ramadan of this year begins the time of time. No gas hits shakes the world as we break faster. Nothing without working on Frjr. There is no fear of decorating our homes, electrical lights that can make us.
Between side effects and damaged, life – which was sleeping too long – I'm trying to get back to gaza streets.
The stores are the unchanged markets open, and the traffic sellers returned.
Even the main Supermarket in NUSET, Hyper Mall, has reopened its doors again. Prior to military, my father took me by my sister there. We could not have our joy as we entered the brightly brightly. For a while, it felt as though we were back in a moment. The shelves were published, filled with all we longed – various colors of chocolate, gallery, rolls and chips. There were Ramadan decorations, lamps of form and size boxes, dry boxes, dried fruits, dried fruits and qamar al-din.
But plenty of fools with these fools. The information that fills the shelves, which make a large portion of cars allowed to enter Gaza due to the support of people. At the same time, these things have been unknown to many people who have lost the opportunity to live and home.
So what can families do with this year? It will be more than miraculous beans: Simple food of rice, mushrooms or pages can afford.
For the first three, our family will have, a paceletin plate, a Palestin made from chicken, saj bread and plenty of onions. We know that we are part of a privilege. Many people in Gaza do not afford a new chicken that has come to pass in two.
But the heavy, culturally is not the only thing it will miss Ramadan tables in Gaza.
More than 488,000 are killed during the war. All families have been sown from Civil Registry and will not see Ramadan this year. On many Ingar tables, there will be empty seat: Father whose words tell her her children on the table.
I too lost my favorite people. My husband who uses to invite us to avoid hurting violence. My friends SHAMA, another one with Roaa, meeting him to the mosque after the Talawa prayer and all slain.
The spirit of a happy man has gone, but between Ramadan is here. This month is a chance to leave to the inconvenience and anxiety of ordinary life and to contact our faith. It's a pervert time. It is time to seek God with spiritual courage.
Our styques may have been destroyed, but our faith is not broken. We will still do Tarigah in destructive homes and tents, whispering to our preferences in Dua'a, and as soon as we repeat the Qur'an.
Views discussed in this article are the ones who are educated and do not show the Alerar's compromise.