Night black, shining wet street, small container fires blazing on the periphery surrounded by men warming their hands, the occasional headlights of an oncoming car. These are the images I see as my dear friend Jehad walks along a street in Rafah heading to the little hospital where he is now working as a physician. He describes the misery of living in the cold and rain with little to shelter people from the wintry conditions now plaguing Gaza—an additional assault on those who are displaced and homeless from the genocidal acts of Israel.

Amidst the despair, however, there is also a spirit of resilience and faith. Feel the words from Jehad as his act of generosity fills his heart, an example of how living for the benefit of others benefits oneself.

Here are excerpts from messages I’ve received these past couple of days: (edited for clarity)

[Last night] was one of coldest nights ever.
I had to go out in the middle of the night to help people repair the handmade tents because they were partially destroyed.
I went to a group of associations and asked them for covers and blankets
I distributed them to families whose bodies were shivering from the cold and rain.
Oh my God, how cruel this life is! [It is] terrible! I swear by everything, since its inception [the Zionist establishment of Israel], Palestinians have never witnessed such humiliation, weakness, killing and displacement. We will not forget all who let us down.

From today:

This situation happened to me today—
Four trucks carrying aid passed, loaded with mattresses and tents.
Masked police intimidate people with weapons as they guard the jeeps.
All the people are standing there preparing to attack it and take aid from it. [They are desperate.]
A mattress from one of the trucks fell at my feet, so I caught it.
Then one of the people came to me and told me that his mother is sick and sleeps on the floor. She does not have a mattress to sleep on.
So I went to their tent and greeted his mother, kissed her hand, and gave it to her.
Oh my God, if you saw her smile!
I forgot all the sadness I’m going through now!
Our people are good and generous and are not accustomed to all this humiliation. We will come back someday.

So many lessons I am learning from my dear young friend, Jehad. In his lifetime, he has seen more human-made suffering than most of us can even imagine. And the travesty is that we are watching it happen, in real time, before our eyes. A genocide— initiated, perpetrated and supported by supremicist, colonizing forces with greedy geopolitical interests— unfolds before us. The people in power abuse and humiliate without conscience. And just as implicated are people who do not want to see, so close their eyes and turn away.

One act a day matters: a call to a political representative, a conversation with a friend, a letter to the paper, a “share” on social media with information about the situation, showing up at a rally. Let others know you care— support others in what they are doing.

I know it matters to me. But even more importantly, it matters to Jehad, and to all the Palestinian people from Gaza to the West Bank to the diaspora spread throughout the world. It also matters to Jews who value Judaism and its teachings and who know, too, that dehumanization, a sense of separation, and the ignorance underlying such Zionist attitudes and actions are dangerously unwise.

What do you feel when you hear these words? It is cold and raining. My mother is sick and has nothing but the cold, damp ground to sleep on. Imagine this mother as your mother.

Please… if they’re not already open, open your eyes, your heart, your mind— Be courageous, be strong, do not turn away. Take action.