Gaza Displacement Camps Flooded as Speaker Appeals for Shelter

A terrible night has passed, and it is still passing over the Gaza Strip.

Torrential rain and gale-force winds. Entire camps were uprooted and flooded.

Children, women, and widows, before the eyes and ears of the world.

And no one is doing anything. A nation of two billion cannot stop a death.

Can it not at least protect these people from the rain and cold?

Can it not act to bring in whatever it can?

I don't want to presume on your generosity and ask for reconstruction, because I know you're not worthy of it, nor capable of it.

And that, before all that, you could at least stop the deaths.

Caravans, tents, something to protect these people.

I'm filming now from— from a torn cardboard box to protect the— the phone.

People are fleeing the unknown. People are fleeing into the unknown.

From the unknown to the unknown. Fleeing to nowhere.

To nothing. They don't know when. They don't know where they'll go.

Nor where they'll flee to, with their worn- out tents and soaked bedding.

Their children, crying from the cold and rain.

When will this nation act? We haven't even talked about winter yet.

We're talking about days that are coming.

And winter is just around the corner. What will happen to these people when winter comes and the world, with its injustice, the world with its contempt and hypocrisy, does nothing.

God is sufficient for us, and He is the best disposer of affairs.