Children wounded by the war in Gaza share their stories as they heal in the U.S.

Geoff Bennett:

Gaza now has the highest number of child amputees per capita in the world, a stark reminder of the war's horrific toll on the youngest victims.

Before the State Department paused new medical visas for Palestinians back in August, a group of children was able to leave Gaza for lifesaving medical care here in the U.S., among them, four young survivors, children and teens whose stories reveal not just loss, but remarkable resilience and hope.

Amna Nawaz and producer Zeba Warsi captured their stories.

A warning:

Some images are disturbing.

Amna Nawaz:

In here, 7-year-old Qamar can create her own world. Surrounded by Disney characters drawing fishy fish, as she calls them, she forgets for the moment what was lost in the real world, where she's still learning to take small steps in her new body and with 3-year-old brother Omar working to piece together a new life far from the war she left back home.

Two months into Israel's war in Gaza, an airstrike destroyed her family home in Jabalia. That was on December 4 of 2023, Qamar's sixth birthday. Her mother Huda helps her to find the words.

Huda, Mother of Qamar: "This was my worst birthday ever."

Of course it is. We got bombed seven times. The whole area was bombed. It was crazy day. It was — they call it the blood day.

Qamar's 14-year-old cousin, Moatasem (ph), was killed that day. Sister Tuleen (ph) suffered a head injury and was blinded for days. Huda today is haunted by the memory.

Huda:

After the five bomb, I heard Tuleen. She was in the kitchen. She was scared. But she's got injured in her head. So there's blood everywhere. She can't see. She's just calling me. So I had to put Qamar in a corner, because Qamar, she had a leg injury.

Amna Nawaz:

As Huda carried the smaller children out, Qamar faced her worst fears.

Qamar, Medical Evacuee From Gaza:

Just me and my cousin. So I grabbed her hand and we sit together. And then I told her: "OK, nobody can come. So just me and you. Really, it's just me and you. So we're going to, like, die right now."

Amna Nawaz:

She survived, but delayed care at the overwhelmed hospital meant Qamar's leg had to be amputated, even as bombs fell around the facility.

Qamar (through interpreter):

I used to be afraid earlier that, because there were a lot of bombs.

Then there's a lot of bombs.

(through interpreter):

I got used to it.

Amna Nawaz:

She's now getting used to a new life in New Jersey, where she arrived in March with her mother and brother. Her father and sister remain in Gaza.

Steve Sosebee, HEAL Palestine:

There's literally thousands and thousands of children in Gaza right now who need medical care that cannot get inside Gaza because the health system's been decimated and destroyed.

Amna Nawaz:

Steve Sosebee and his wife, pediatric oncologist Dr. Zeena Salman, are co-founders of the organization HEAL Palestine that's evacuated Qamar and more than 60 children from Gaza to the U.S. for medical treatment in the last two years.

A former journalist, Steve says he was moved to change paths.

Steve Sosebee:

It was an encounter with an injured child back in 1990 who had had his legs amputated, had lost a hand from a bomb, and he was only 10 years old. And I got to know him and I felt kind of an obligation as a human being first and foremost to try to help him get prosthetic limbs and become mobile.

This is a global responsibility to heal these kids. It's an individual responsibility for myself and for Zeena.

Dr. Zeena Salman, HEAL Palestine:

We call it a healing community, where we have our families living amongst each other. We just love them through this whole process so that they can start to feel whole again.

As a mother, every night, I put my own kids to bed, and I get a little teary-eyed most nights, because I think how blessed they are to have a full belly and a warm bed and a roof over their heads. And that to me is reason enough. They have lost so much. We can't give them back everything that they have lost, but we can start to put those pieces back together with them.

Amna Nawaz:

In another part of New Jersey, we meet 19-year-old Sara and her family, big sister Sikham (ph) and mother Lana (ph). Family time is quieter now with just these three. Back home in Gaza, as one of nine children, then 17-year-old Sara's home was always full.

That video was minutes before bombs fell outside their family home, just moments before she held her little brother Hamoud's (ph) hand at the window.

Sara, Medical Evacuee From Gaza:

So I rushed to the home because I know Hamoud. And I found him standing there looking shaken. So I said: "Hamoud, you're so brave. Nothing is going to happen. This is just a sound."

The moment I let go of his hand, something extremely hot. I had my back forward. I was overcome with fear that I couldn't recognize where I was. Oh, hold on. It was enough to catch the sound of endless crying and screaming.

Amna Nawaz:

The blast killed 8-year-old Hamoud and 15-year-old Ahmed (ph) and left Sara with third-degree burns over 60 percent of her body.

How did you learn that your brothers had been killed?

Sara:

When I heard my sisters screaming (INAUDIBLE) outside. And I know there was no way he's still alive.

And Ahmed left without any goodbye and Hamoud followed him without any goodbyes. And when Hamoud passed away, my sister Farah (ph) tried to say: "No, no, no, no, no, be happy for him. There is an ambulance outside. We got the permission to get him to the hospital."

I was like:

"Farah, stop it. I heard Hamoud stop breathing. I know it."

Amna Nawaz:

You heard your brothers stop breathing?

Sara:

Yes, because smoke were pouring out my mouth. And Hamoud is choking. He wasn't able to breathe. He was like, oh, like that. So when he passed away, I hear Hamoud stop breathing, like completely silent.

Amna Nawaz:

Blocked from leaving the neighborhood by Israeli troops, Sara's family fought for 14 days to keep her alive, using supplies at home to fight off infection.

Sara:

My skin was open, like I have within everywhere, and it was bleeding. So just imagine someone wiping with vinegar.

Amna Nawaz:

Your father had to wipe your body with vinegar?

Sara:

Yes, there was…

Amna Nawaz:

To keep infection away.

Sara:

And I was screaming, even though they gave me a pain medicine. But it was expired. And I was like: "Daddy, stop."

And he said: "I know. I know I'm doing too much for you, but I have to do it. I can't lose you."

Amna Nawaz:

When she was evacuated, Sara couldn't move her legs, arms or neck. Today, she's undergone over 20 surgeries, with at least a dozen more ahead.

Sara:

When that happened, I just realized my life is done. My mom was like: "Sara, stop. Nothing is going to stop the life for you. You have to keep going. You have to keep looking forward to the future."

And this is what I'm going to do right now.

Amna Nawaz:

In Chicago, meanwhile, the HEAL community is just trying to keep up with Adam, a 4-year-old force of nature with a relentless, insatiable curiosity and a sense of stubbornness like any ordinary kid his age.

But Adam has already survived the extraordinary.

Superheroes.

In July of 2024, an explosion ripped through his family tent in the Khan Yunis in Southern Gaza, his entire family, mother, father, brother and sister, all killed in an instant. Adam lost most of his right leg. He was evacuated with his grandmother, Aliya.

Aliya Yousef Abu Fouleh, Grandmother of Adam (through interpreter): At the beginning, he would cry all day, asking for his parents and saying he wanted to go to his dad in heaven.

Amna Nawaz:

Today, the two live with a host family. Aliya now helps Adam to walk, as she once did with his father.

Aliya Yousef Abu Fouleh (through interpreter):

I see my son Ahmed in Adam. It's as if he's the one in front of me. He looks just like him. I pray that I get to live long enough to see him grow up and become a man and then God can take me.

Amna Nawaz:

Just a few miles away, 15-year-old Khalil tries to keep Gaza close, playing the music of his homeland and watching scenes from the streets he once roamed.

Khalil, Medical Evacuee From Gaza (through interpreter):

I had great memories with my friends. We used to ride our bikes and do everything together. We'd always rent out a field and play soccer together. I really miss them all.

Amna Nawaz:

In April of 2024, Khalil walked down the street to a barbershop to retrieve a pair of forgotten glasses.

Khalil (through interpreter):

When I went back to get my glasses, I was hit by a bomb.

Amna Nawaz:

Khalil, do you remember anything about what it felt like or what happened after the bombing?

Khalil (through interpreter):

No, I don't remember. After the injury, I was in a coma for a week, and that's it.

Amna Nawaz:

He awoke to learn that he'd lost both his legs. He's now traded his bike or a wheelchair and soccer for basketball therapy. He's now also adjusting to a new life, with his mother Reem (ph) and sister Lulu (ph) by his side.

He's a quick study too, eager to learn a new song.

Yes. that was it.

He says he works hard in school. He wants to be an engineer. We ask him why.

Khalil (through interpreter):

Because I want to build Gaza back up again, so it'll be better than it ever was, even better than America.

Amna Nawaz:

Sara too is looking to the future.

Do you think about going back?

Sara:

In this case, no. But of course, like two years, three years, when Gaza is going to go back stronger, of course I'm going to go back.

Amna Nawaz:

For Qamar, the dream is to be a doctor.

Qamar:

Because there's some people like me, so I want to do them a prosthetic, so they can be two legs.

Amna Nawaz:

And to return to Gaza and to her sister.

Qamar (through interpreter):

I love when my sister and I used to play. When we go back to Gaza, and there's no more Israeli military, we're going to start everything over from scratch.