A volunteer in Gaza recently met a young boy carrying a bright blue kite.
The kite was new, but it had never been flown.
When asked why, the boy simply shrugged and said, "I'll fly it when things are normal again."
Nobody around him knew what "normal" meant anymore.
The boy kept the kite beside him all day. He didn't want it to get dirty or torn. It was his reminder that there would be another day, another season, another chance to run in an open space with his friends.
Children hold onto hope in unusual ways. Some keep a favorite toy. Others carry school notebooks from homes they had to leave behind. One girl carefully folded her birthday dress and packed it in a small bag because she believed she would need it again.
These things may seem ordinary to the rest of us, but to a child they are pieces of a life that still matters.
When people think about humanitarian crises, they often think about numbers and headlines. What can easily be forgotten are the small details: the bicycle left in a courtyard, the unfinished drawing, the kite waiting for the wind.
The children of Gaza still dream about simple things. They want to go back to school, play football, and celebrate birthdays with their families.
And somewhere in Gaza, a little boy is still holding onto his blue kite, waiting for the day he can finally let it fly.