The BBCNow they smile as they play together in the sand at Al-Mawasi tent camp in southern Gaza, but the Masri family's children have lived through horrific events.
“Their lives were in danger, they were exposed to so much killing and destruction,” says their grandmother Kauter al-Masri.
An Israeli bomb six weeks ago hit their home in the northern town of Beit Lahiya, killing one-year-old Jamal's parents and the mother and two little sisters of his cousins Maria, Yana and Zeina, aged two to nine. The girls' father was arrested by Israeli forces more than a year ago.
When removing the children from the rubble, they themselves were injured.
Since the start of the war in Gaza, more than 14,500 children have been reported killed, thousands more injured, and about 17,000 left unaccompanied or separated from the family members who would normally care for them.
Some are too young to know their names and remain unidentified.
In a chaotic situation amid bombings and mass displacement, the UN children's agency, UNICEF, managed to reunite only 63 children with their parents or guardians. Last month, the BBC followed the story of the four Masri cousins.
“The happiness of their return is indescribable, but it is overshadowed by sadness – they returned without their parents,” Kawter al-Masri told us.
Initially, the news that reached Kauter in mid-November was that all her relatives who had remained in the family's house in northern Gaza had been killed. But she says that after she prayed, word reached her that three of her grandchildren were still alive.
He knew immediately that he had to bring them to her. “I longed for them,” she explains. “Honestly, I wanted to go north and bring them, but God's will is above all.”
For more than a year now, Israel has divided the northern third of the Gaza Strip from the southern two-thirds along the line of the Wadi Gaza valley. Aid workers must perform special coordination to cross the Israeli military zone dividing the territory.
After Kauter gathered the documents she needed, Unicef carried out its own welfare checks and went through a difficult process to arrange the relocation of Masri's children.
While the four bereaved cousins underwent medical treatment, distant relatives cared for them. Unicef filmed their emotional goodbye before taking the children away in armored vehicles.
The short distance from Gaza City to Deir al-Balah, where the convoy is headed, now involves crossing an Israeli checkpoint, takes a long time to drive and can be very risky as the war rages. Still, Unicef says it prioritizes reuniting children.
“The challenges are many,” said Rosalia Bolen, UNICEF spokesperson. “But we're talking about highly vulnerable children here.”
“These are stories of loss – of deep mental trauma and physical trauma and the recovery of these children. The fact that they are reunited with one or both parents or a family member is extremely, extremely important.”
Kawther described an agonizing wait on the day the children were due to arrive, until Unicef finally got on the phone. She had not seen her grandchildren for 14 months.
“I didn't know who to hug first!” she exclaims. “The first one I hugged was Yana and then Xena. I kissed her and hugged her.”
“My son's kids called me 'Kuko' and even though Zeina couldn't speak the last time I saw her, she knew that was my nickname. He kept asking, “Are you Kuko? Are you the one I came here for? ' And I told her I was. She feels safe.”
The story of the Masri family is not unusual. They were separated in the early days of the war.
A week after a Hamas attack on October 7, 2023, that killed around 1,200 people in southern Israel, the Israeli military ordered 1.1 million people in northern Gaza to move south, signaling that it planned to launch a ground invasion.
Kauter and most of her children quickly packed up and moved to Rafah, but transportation for her two sons, Ramadan and Hamza, failed. In the end, they were left with their wives – one of whom was pregnant – and young children.
In November 2023 Hamza was arrested by Israeli forces in Beit Lahiya. His close relatives claim that he and they are farmers with no political affiliations. The BBC has been unable to obtain information from the Israeli authorities about what happened to Hamza.
Israel has detained thousands of Gazans during the war, saying they are suspected of terrorism.
“Such was our fate,” Kauthar tells us desperately. “We lost our homes, our land and our loved ones and were divided between the North and the South.
With so many people missing, many are turning to the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) for help. He takes detailed information and checks it against sources he has access to, such as hospital lists and names of returned detainees.
More than 8,300 cases have been reported to the organization, but only about 2,100 have been closed. Of these, only a small number have resulted in family reunification.
“People are in the dark – they don't know if their family member is alive, if they are injured or in hospital, if they are trapped under the rubble or if they will ever see them again,” said Sara Davies of the ICRC.
Doctors and hospital staff also play a role in trying to connect their patients with loved ones.
Nearly a year ago, the BBC filmed a newborn baby born by caesarean section after her mother was killed in an Israeli airstrike. Medics named the baby girl “Hana Abu Amsha's daughter” and withheld information about her in the hope that her relatives could trace her.
We were recently told by the nursery at Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir al-Balah that the baby was eventually handed over to his father and is doing well.
Days after the Masri family was reunited, a local journalist working with the BBC visited Kauter and her grandchildren in the al-Mawasi displaced persons camp, where they now live in a tent. With aid in short supply, Unicef had helped them get extra food and medicine.
The girls also had warm jackets, some protection against the freezing temperatures that have led to the death of several babies from hypothermia, including at the camp on the coast, near the town of Khan Younis.
While Kauter is relieved to have the children with her, she still does not feel safe with them. She worries about how to take care of them and their mental health.
“They're in shock,” she says. “As much as we try to distract the girls and avoid talking about the war, every now and then they drift off in thought.”
“When night falls, they are afraid. They say, “There's a plane, there's a strike.” They ask me: Has it dawned yet? and it is only when the morning comes that they begin to feel at ease.”
Kauter says she desperately hopes for a ceasefire and for her grandchildren to rebuild their lives. Let's not become part of a lost generation.