Hi Reader,

The temptation to despair has been overwhelming this year. And I'm not going to lie; sometimes I've given into it.

My city has been invaded by 1,500 federal agents and an additional 300 state troopers who are ripping families apart. Our governor has said this effort, inappropriately named the Memphis Safe Task Force, "will last forever."

In November, federal officials played with the lives of poor children, cutting off food assistance and then announcing that once it was restored, cruel new restrictions would be put into place.

In the Coffees for Gaza group I volunteer with, we helped multiple families escape Gaza City just as tanks rolled into their neighborhoods.

It's been so painful to watch the predictable pattern of the news media turning away from a place that's still completely devastated (and where people still endure regular airstrikes despite the ceasefire agreement.) Apparently it doesn't matter that refugee camps were flooded with torrential rains and sewage last week, destroying so many families' entire belongings. It's no longer newsworthy.

But it's through families in Gaza that I've found the frame of mind I want to cultivate, rather than despairing.

It's called sumud.

This Arabic word means steadfastness, perseverance, and endurance. In Palestine it's become a way of understanding what it means to nonviolently resist occupation on a day to day basis.

When my friend Ameera and her husband Hossam had to flee with their children Mansour, Rafif, and Mahmoud again and again, they have demonstrated sumud. They have - and are still - enduring so much more than I can even understand. If they remain steadfast in their perseverance, then surely I can try to do the same.

On Saturday, Rafif is turning 10 years old. This is the third birthday she's had since the war started. When I watch this video, filled with her drawings and description of how life has changed because of the war and its aftermath, I'm heartbroken for her. (Be sure to turn on the sound so that you can hear her young voice.)

I've turned to our community many times to ask for your help in supporting Ameera's family. I deeply appreciate all of you who have responded.

I continue to lift up Ameera and her children because their nightmare is not over. After their own home was destroyed in January, they've sheltered with various family members.

The house they are staying in is just 300 meters from the yellow line boundary, a dangerous area where the Israeli newspaper Haaretz describes the IDF as using a "shoot first, ask questions later" policy toward Gazan civilians. The house itself is damaged and doesn't keep out the cold winds and the brutal rains that are common in Palestine this time of year.

Ameera wrote me recently:

As Ameera and her family persevere through a life without running water, electricity, reliable medical care, warmth, adequate shelter, and sufficient nourishing food, I ask that you persevere alongside them.

Please consider:

• ​giving someone you love a warm winter hat, scarf, or cowl that also gives the gift of warmth to Ameera's family through my Knits for Gaza fundraiser. All knits are 20% off through this Saturday night because I'd love to get Ameera some extra funds in time to do something small to celebrate Rafif's birthday.
• ​contributing any amount to Ameera's GoFundMe. Gifts of all sizes, whether it's $5 or $100, will help them hold fast during this time of suffering, and perhaps bring a bit of birthday joy to Rafif.

With steadfast endurance,

Rebekah

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Rebekah Gienapp (she/her/hers) | rebekahgienapp.com | Connect on Instagram | Coffees for Gaza |

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