Sila… a childhood that learned the meaning of cold before words
At night, when everything grows quiet except the wind,
Sila pulls the edges of the damp blanket tightly around her small body.
Sila has not yet learned how to form a complete sentence,
but she knows that the cold is harsh,
and that a tent is not the same as a home.
She was born on May 26, 2022,
in a time that was not ready to welcome a child.
She did not open her eyes to a safe bed,
nor to a wall where her father could hang her pictures.
One dawn changed everything.
The family home was struck in a direct bombardment,
and she lost her father while he was trying to protect his family.
Sila is growing up with the image of a father she cannot remember,
and with a sentence repeated whenever she asks about him with her eyes:
“He loved you very much… but time did not give him a chance.”
There is no home left.
The homeland has become a tent,
and winter is a heavy guest that never asks permission.
Sila sleeps pressed close to her sister Saba,
as if each one is trying to be the other’s safety.
Sila does not ask for toys,
nor for new clothes.
All she needs…
is warmth that does not slip away,
a roof that does not collapse,
and a life that gives her the chance to simply be a child.
Sponsoring Sila is not a fleeting act of charity—
it is protection for a childhood born under bombardment… still waiting for safety.
