Help Rana and her grandmother

Emergency

Help Rana and her grandmother
Add cover image Ranosh Home Posts Support Ranosh $ Enter amount Name or @yoursocial Say something nice... Add a video message Make this message private Make this monthly Support About Ranosh Edit I'm Rana, 16, clinging to life in Gaza with my 63-year-old grandmother, my only anchor after the war tore my parents away. Their absence haunts me—every night, I see their faces, hear their laughter, and wake up with an ache that never fades. Grandma's warm hugs and soft voice keep me going, but her tired eyes betray the pain she hides. Our tiny home, with its cracked walls, holds our fragile world together. Grandma’s battling diabetes, and watching her wince as she skips her medicine because we can’t afford it breaks my heart. Sometimes, she sells her old treasures—little pieces of her past—just to buy food or pills. Each sale feels like losing another part of her. I pour myself into school, clutching my worn books, dreaming of becoming a doctor to heal people like us, who’ve known too much pain. But the fear never leaves—every distant boom makes me grab Grandma’s hand, terrified it could be our last moment. She whispers, “Stay strong, Rana,” but I see her tremble too. I wrestled with my pride to ask for help, my chest tight with shame, but I’m desperate. Grandma is my everything—my mother, my father, my home. The thought of losing her rips me apart. If anyone can offer even a sliver of hope, it would mean the world to us. I’m Rana, carrying a heart full of grief but still holding onto dreams.

$0 raised Of $10,000

Help a Family of 8 Survive in a Tent in Gaza

Emergency

Help a Family of 8 Survive in a Tent in Gaza
My name is Wissam Madi. Alongside my husband, we are the proud parents of six wonderful children. We once had a beautiful life in our home in the Sheikh Radwan neighborhood. It was more than just a house; it was the center of our universe, a place filled with our children's laughter, our shared dreams, and a lifetime of memories. Then, the war took everything from us. Our home was completely destroyed, reduced to rubble. In a single moment, we lost not only our shelter but every single possession we owned. We escaped with only the clothes on our backs. We have nothing left. Today, my husband, our six children, and I live in a small, cramped tent in Khan Younis. This is our reality now. This thin sheet of fabric is all that separates our family from the street. It offers no real protection from the biting cold of the night or the intense heat of the day. As parents, our greatest pain is watching our children suffer and seeing the immense burden on my husband as he struggles daily to find our next meal. We are not asking to rebuild our home; that dream feels impossible right now. We are simply asking for your help to survive. Your donation will be used immediately for our most critical needs: Food and Clean Water: To provide essential nutrition for our children and ensure they have safe water to drink. Rent for the Land Under Our Tent: To secure this small patch of ground so we don’t lose even this last resort of shelter and end up completely exposed. Every single contribution, no matter the size, is a lifeline. It is a message of hope that helps us endure this nightmare. You are our best hope for survival. Thank you for your compassion. May you and your loved ones always be safe.

$514 raised Of $50,000

Please Help Me to Live

Emergency

Please Help Me to Live
My name is Yaser. I am an Iraqi LGBTQ+ refugee, now living alone in Beirut, Lebanon. I escaped from a life that had become unbearable — a life filled with fear, shame, and violence just because of who I am. My family forced me to marry a girl to hide the truth about me. My father, a military officer who always carried a gun, beat me many times and threatened to kill me when he found out who I really was. For years, I lived in silence and fear, pretending to be someone I’m not — trapped inside a life that was never mine. When the threats became too real, I had no choice but to flee. Lebanon was the only country I could enter without a visa, so I escaped here in desperation — leaving everything behind: my home, my belongings, my friends, and a part of myself. Now I live in a small hotel room, completely alone. I eat one meal a day to save the little money I have left. Some nights I sleep hungry, and some nights I can’t sleep at all. I take my medication (Paxil) for my mental health, but even that is becoming too expensive. I feel my strength fading each day. I have reached out to many organizations and to UNHCR, but the process takes time. Time that I no longer have. I am running out of money, running out of energy, and sometimes… running out of hope. Every day, I wake up afraid — afraid of being recognized, of being found, of being forgotten. I change hotels often, trying to stay safe. I have no one beside me, no family, no friends, only silence and fear. All I want is safety — a place where I can live without hiding, without fear, where I can simply exist as myself. If you are reading this, please, I beg you — stand with me. Your compassion, your kindness, could be the reason I survive. It could be the small light that keeps my hope alive. ❤️

$1,550 raised Of $1,800