04/13/2026
I’ve been trying to write this since Saturday, but my grief is just too heavy, and honestly, I still don’t have the energy or the words to fully express it.
I grieve for Lebanon and its people, for my hometown in the South, and for my displaced family and friends. Many of you remember how, 18 months ago, you helped fund my mom’s little boutique, and you saw the happiness on my face when she finally finished rebuilding it and filled it with clothes. When I went back to Lebanon in November, I was so happy to see her back in business.
But just 48 hours ago, the Israeli army bombed her boutique again, destroying it completely—along with my uncle’s garage and home. It’s all gone again, just like that and just like last time. I need to share this because every single one of you who donated was there with me in spirit, and now you have a chance to see this from my perspective.
You may not have a direct connection to my mom or her boutique, but your bond is with me—Layla, the local restaurant owner who prepares your meals. Your incredible support helped me invest in my family, and now that support has vanished in an instant a simple press of a button p**f gone.
I’m not grieving this from a financial standpoint; I feel a profound sense of injustice. I cannot allow myself to grieve finances in the presence of human loss. I feel compelled to share this with you because, through your generosity, you became part of this story.
Right now, I can’t articulate what I need; all I know is that I am not okay, and WE HUMANS are not okay. What I do know is that I need to express my grief and anger with you.
Layla
