The day after tomorrow, Eid al-Adha will arrive,
yet it no longer resembles the Eids we once knew.
Here, Eid al-Adha carried rituals that felt like old tales passed gently from one generation to another;
the scent of sacrifices rising with the first light of dawn,
crowded markets filled with sweets, new clothes, and children’s toys,
and the joy in little eyes growing long before gifts ever reached their hands.
Our mothers used to bake date-filled cookies days before the feast,
until the homes themselves seemed wrapped in the warmth of flour, butter, and longing,
as though happiness was being baked slowly beside us, piece by piece.
And tomorrow is the Day of Arafah,
the sacred day before Eid,
a day that carried its own unforgettable traditions.
Every Day of Arafah, we would have breakfast outside the house,
a small pause between the exhaustion of work,
the weight of my children’s studies,
and the long-awaited holiday we clung to like salvation.
Then Eid morning would arrive…
beginning with prayer,
followed by the sacrifices,
then sweets shared among children,
and Eid gifts that planted delight inside their small hearts,
along with visits to family and relatives,
and the sound of loved ones knocking on our doors with hearts full of affection.
But today…
no Eid comes anymore,
and life no longer feels like life.
There is no joy worthy of our children,
and no voices of family or loved ones
knocking at our doors the way they once did in gentler days.
Help us paint even the smallest traces of happiness
upon faces that have been deprived of it for far too many years.
My family’s support link.⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️
gofund.me/83e09b493
#Gaza
#Palestine
