On the afternoon of Tuesday, the 6th of January, at a narrow alley, not wider than one meter, Shahd’s story ended.

On that cold day, eight-year-old Shahd walked around the streets looking for her father. He was sitting hidden with a friend, as the Israeli war on Gaza forced Palestinians to stay away from the streets.

Shahd sat in her father’s arms, searching for safety and peace.

Shahd was eating chips and sweets when an Israeli helicopter hovered above. As she played around where her father was sitting, a rocket from the helicopter shock the place. The father couldn’t protect his daughter, who died at once.

Shahd’s blood was flowing out, mixed with the father’s tears. The father was shocked watching his daughter’s blood on his own face and arms. The poor man suffered a horrible nervous breakdown, losing the ability to speak or move. Since that day, he is bedridden; not even able to mention his daughter’s name.

Her mother said “he is suffering from paralysis due to the terrible shock. He cannot imagine yet that Shahd was shot by an Israeli brutal bullet while she was between his arms feeding him and his friend from her sweets with her little soft hand.”

A couple of minutes before her death, Shahd was playing with her brothers and sisters, pretending to be an officer at the Rafah border crossing.

Shahd had a great sense of humor. She played all the time. Her mother and brothers still remember her in every corner. They remember her fun and friendly arguing with all of them. She had a strong personality, always trying to prove her point in an argument.

While Shahd was so young, her dreams were so big. She was whispering to her mother asking her when she will grow up to be like her elder sister, Soad.

While Shahd’s mother was talking about her memories with Shahd, Shahd’s sister, Shorouk, came back alone from school.

Shorouk was deeply depressed. “After two years of getting used to going to school with Shahd, who was in the second grade in the primary school, I am missing her now so much. I loved her a lot; every single detail in my day inside or outside home was shared by Shahd. Although she was younger than me, I always felt I can’t do anything without her.”

Shorouk loved her sister so much that she would see her in her dreams, flying with joyful wings, enjoying her life in paradise.

A similar dream was seen by her brother Mohammad, who also missed his sister so much

A better life after death is the only hope for those miserable children who have no hope to enjoy their lives; to live in peace like all kids around the world.