Title for patience (Gaza)

Title for patience (Gaza)

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Jan 24, 2025
people of Gaza, I am publishing this story with a heart filled with sadness for the loss and pain you have gone through. You have lost many loved ones, from your children who were the flowers of the future, and from your husbands and wives who were a support in this life. It is a feeling mixed between deep sadness and great pride in you, in your patience and steadfastness that astonished the world. After the withdrawal of the Zionists, you will return to your homes, and you will find the traces of suffering engraved on the walls, but they will not hide your hope and determination to rebuild. You will return to plant the seeds of life in your pure land, and to return the laughter of your children to your streets, and to create a future worthy of your steadfastness and sacrifices. This story is not only about pain, but about the hope that springs from the rubble, and about the determination of the people of Gaza who teach us that true victory is faith in God and adherence to morals no matter the circumstances.
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In agony I deliver the children of faceless, infertile clients. To them I am nothing more than a vessel, bearing the fruit they so wish to carry within themselves. They love me for my ability, and they hate me for it. This is why I am hidden away here in the Factory where they cannot see my rounded stomach, swollen with their life. When the life inside me is gone, birthed into their eagerly-waiting arms, I will be left with nothing. I will be impregnated again, and again, until my body is ruined and I am sent away. I should question this system, this ritualistic rending of my heart, but I do not-in fact, I volunteered for this job. And now, six babies later, I am afraid to leave. It is better to carry life, even temporarily, than to have never carried it at all.

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