Heartbreak and Resilience: Stories of Gaza's children through the eyes of Save the Children staff

A boy grieving the loss of his father and his amputated hand.  A girl was hiding her doll for safety. Children were dragging large bottles of water through the streets. Save the Children staff working in Gaza said children were struggling to cope in so many ways with the loss of homes, loved ones and security, with their childhoods shattered by war.

Five Save the Children staff members who have worked in Gaza in recent months or are permanently based in Gaza have shared some moments that have had a lasting impact on them.

Amal*, Child Safeguarding officer in the Gaza office who has worked for Save the Children for six months.

At the start of the war, after we had been displaced from our home to the south, one of my relatives decided to go back to check on our houses. He called my husband to inform him, and my six-year-old daughter, Ruba*, overheard him. She said to her father, "Dad, tell him if he can get to our house that I hid my doll in the drawer of the cupboard in my room, but it's hidden in the top drawer. I want him to take the doll and hide it in the bottom drawer because it's safer than the top one. In case a thief enters and tries to steal my things, he'll open the top drawer and find nothing, so he'll think there’s nothing hidden in the bottom drawer and leave my doll and go away." I was shocked by what I heard from her and it made me think about how we sometimes underestimate the depth of children's attachment to their things and the details of their lives.

Israa Al-Qahwaji, MHPSS Coordinator in Gaza office who has worked for Save the Children for nearly one year.

One story that stands out for me is about a young boy we worked with through our partner in both individual and group sessions. This child had survived a bombing that killed his father and resulted in the amputation of one of his hands. After the incident, he was in shock—completely withdrawn, unable to talk about his feelings or what he had gone through. We used different therapeutic techniques with him, including play therapy and drawing, to help him open up. Slowly, he began to express his emotions. He started to talk about his father, how much he missed him, and how his life had changed since losing his hand. He spoke about the things he used to enjoy, the games he could no longer play, and how losing his hand had affected his relationships with his friends. The amputation had isolated him further—he couldn’t participate in games like he used to, and it changed how he interacted with his peers… During one session, the counsellor asked the boy to mould something out of clay that represented a wish or something he hoped to achieve. He carefully crafted what he described as a house—his way of symbolising the home he had lost in the bombing. After finishing, he turned to the counsellor and asked, “Now, will you bring my dad and give me my hand back?”. The weight of his request—wanting his father and his hand back—was overwhelming. It struck us how profound the child’s sense of loss was.

Sacha Myers - media manager and content creator for the past 18 years, including 14 years in the humanitarian and development sector.

Sacha was deployed to Gaza for several weeks in April 2024, where she gathered compelling content on the scale of the destruction in Khan Younis. Currently, she is deployed to Ukraine response as the Media and Communications Specialist" with EHU. She has previously worked for MSF and World Vision. 

I met baby Lana* a day after she was born in our maternity unit. For a few short hours, we could somehow forget there was a war as we watched Lana open her eyes, flex her little fingers and test out her lungs with a small cry for milk. As we gathered around her, I tried not to listen to the constant sound of bombs outside. I tried not to think about how her mother Tima* was going to struggle to keep Lana clean in their tent, how she would be at risk of infection. I tried not to think about how Lana might miss her vaccinations, about how she might lose her whole family in an airstrike. I tried not to think about how her first days, weeks and months of life would be consumed with violence, death and fear.

Becky Platt -  Paediatric nurse from The Royal London Hospital and a senior lecturer in Paediatric Emergency Medicine at Queen Mary University in London, with a long experience in clinical and managerial aspects of emergency care for children.

Becky has recently returned from a deployment as a paediatric nurse for Save the Children's Emergency Health Unit in Gaza, where she treated severely injured children for over a month. She has also been recognised for her overseas humanitarian work with a British Empire Medal in 2021. 

A two year old boy was brought to the field hospital having a seizure. He was a child with epilepsy and other complex health problems. Fortunately his seizure stopped on its own. We didn’t have any medications to stop seizures at that point because the supply chain had broken down as a result of nearby hospitals being bombed. It was also very difficult to get supplies into Gaza because trucks were not allowed across the border. This child needed regular anti epileptic medication to control his seizures but the family had run out and had no way of getting any more. In addition to all the more obvious injuries of war, children with ongoing health conditions are at risk of serious complications or death because of a lack of medication and access to treatment.

Rachael Cummings - The Humanitarian Director and Team Leader for Save the Children in Gaza.

Rachel has been working in the occupied Palestinian territory (oPt) since October 2023, initially based in Ramallah before relocating to Gaza in February. Rachael brings extensive experience in humanitarian public health. Prior to her current role, she served as the Director of Humanitarian Public Health at Save the Children in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, where she led the Emergency Health Unit’s COVID-19 response. 

While driving through a crowded street, I saw a young girl, perhaps five or six years old, struggling to carry large bottles of water, far too big for her small frame. She had devised a system where she carried two bottles and then went back for the third, repeating the process every five metres or so. This is not an isolated incident; it’s a common sight. Families are stretched thin, and every family member, no matter how young, has to contribute just to meet basic survival needs like food and water.  That little girl’s determination was striking, but so was the chaos surrounding her. She seemed to be all alone in an environment overwhelmed by destruction and uncertainty. I think about her and the thousands of other children like her who are just trying to survive. Here in Deir Al-Balah, the streets are filled with sewage, and children are physically and mentally overwhelmed by the constant bombardment, displacement, and the never-ending uncertainty. There is no safe space for children in Gaza.

* name changed to protect identity.

The staff mentioned above are available for media interviews on request. Please visit our media centre for more information.