The fourth of January was not as any other day. It was differently, where its hours carried pains and its sun rays sent sorrow that occupied the hearts. That day was the first day of the land operation of the Israeli war on Gaza. In his humble house of his father in north Jabalia, Mahmoud used to play in his red clothes and with his little toys, but the sounds of the approaching warplanes penetrating the sound barrier and tanks filled the hearts with fear. Unexpectedly, his heat began to go high and down until it was fixed at 42 centigrade. The boy started to rave and mention the warplanes and missiles. He moved from the bosom of his mother to his father fearfully and the tries of his family did not succeed to abate his ambient temperature or calm him down.

In the region where Muhamoud lived no one could move because the Israeli snipers would shoot them. The danger to Mahmoud's life was increasing every hour; his temperature did not go down, his heart was beating fast, and his tongue did not stop mentioning the warplanes, tanks, and missiles. The family members kept to call on the ambulance cars all the time, but they could not reach them due to the severe continuous bombard. His mother carried him between her arms and went to get help, not caring for the missiles that were shelling nor the shells of the tanks. She sneaked through the dusty streets to the clinic, there the doctors decided to send him to Kamal `Adwan's Hospital at once. As soon as the ambulance car was transferring him, he declared his death after blood had exploded in his heart veins out of fear.

All his house members felt sad for the four-years-old Mahmoud, especially his elder sister Iman. She said in trembling voice: "Mahmoud was loved by all and we all miss him. He was so young but his status in the heart was high and no one occupied that status." His father still remembers him saying: "I have fourteen children but the most beloved and the closest to my heart was Mahmoud. Now I miss him in my sleep where he used to sleep between his mother and me, but his place is now empty no one occupies it but his beautiful memories."

His mother still goes to his grave everyday yearning for the one who did not leave her for a moment, but now he has left suddenly without saying goodbye. She supplicates Allah and asks Him to grant her patience for leaving him. She used to narrate to him the old stories, but now she weeps longing for him.