Among the ruins of her home, Amal stands as a witness to a displacement that never truly ended with return. She came back only to find her house reduced to nothing, so she pitched her tent over the rubble—as if insisting that life can still take root even in the midst of destruction. Amal now lives with her four children in a cramped tent, where an old stove burns whatever plastic and cardboard it can find, offering warmth laced with suffocating smoke. That smoke has stolen the children’s breath, leaving them struggling with asthma, while one barefoot child sits close to the fire, searching for warmth that does not burn her chest. Today, Amal is both mother and father, working for a meager wage that barely covers bread—let alone medicine or a safe roof. Her story is not made of numbers, but of four children dreaming of a clean room and fresh air, and a mother who fights each day to keep hope alive beneath a tent resting on the ruins.