Thinking that his house was pretty far away from the range of brutal Israeli artillery, Ameen, ‘Umar’s father, went outdoors in the early morning to sit on his chair listening to the news from his small radio. The first minutes passed safely and his wife joined him after finishing the housework. Three-year old Wadi‘, followed his mother’s steps towards the front door. As soon as the mother opened the door, fragments of shells scattered in her face and in her baby’s small . He was hit by Israeli shrapnel and was killed right away. The wounded mother hit the ground and turned around trying to find her baby. She saw her beloved baby lying in a four-meter-liter of his innocent blood. With her eyes full of tears, the poor mother narrated: “He did not scream, he did not say a word. It was a matter of seconds, and my baby was gone”

Young Wadi‘ passed away but his memory is still alive within the hearts of his mother, grandmother, and father. He spent his last minutes with his mother in the kitchen. While the mother was cooking, he kept interrupting her saying “Mom”. Being too busy, she did not answer him but young ‘Umar did not give up and grabbed her dress saying: “Mom, why do not you answer me? Answer me Mom”. Young ‘Umar had a great deal of self-respect; he would not tolerate talking to someone who neglects him or does not listen to his sweet baby-talk words. 

Wadi‘ loved satellite channels; especially Toyor Al-Jannah. He memorized its songs especially the “Daddy … You have a phone call”, and “My well-guarded daughter”. Wadi‘ used to call upon his siblings saying: "Huda, well-guarded Huda … O Beautiful Huda”. 

Wadi‘ was the apple of his mother’s eye; and for over two and a half years, he had enjoyed her undivided love and care, few months ago his younger sister, Nesmah, was born to share his mother’s love and care to him, but he was not o.k. with that . He used to feel jealous of his younger sister when he saw her in the arms of his parents, but Alas, he has gone forever.