Seven-year-old Rami should be worrying about homework, football with his friends, and which color pencil to use in his notebook. Instead, he is learning what it means to leave home in the middle of fear.
Rami is a Lebanese child from Baalbek. He lives with his parents and his three siblings in a modest home where life has never been easy. His father works as a daily laborer selling vegetables in the market, often leaving early in the morning and returning late in the evening just to provide enough food for the family. His mother suffers from diabetes and cannot work, so the family depends entirely on the father’s unpredictable daily income.
When the bombing intensified, Rami’s family made the difficult decision to leave their home in Douris and seek safety in Deir Al-Ahmar. For the adults, it was a painful but necessary decision. For Rami, it felt like the world he knew suddenly disappeared.
“I was very afraid of the bombing sound,” Rami says quietly, his small voice trembling as he remembers the night they left. “It was very loud.”
In the rush to escape, Rami had to leave behind the things that mattered most to him. His school bag stayed in the house. Inside it were his notebooks, pencils, and something even more precious — a small teddy bear.
The teddy bear was not just a toy. It was a reward from his teacher at the Baalbek learning center after Rami proudly solved a difficult math equation in class. His teacher had given it to him with a smile, telling him he was very clever.
When Rami talks about the teddy bear, his eyes fill with tears. “I forgot my school bag… and my teddy bear,” he says, wiping his face. “My teacher gave it to me because I solved the math.”
For a child, small things carry big meanings. That teddy bear represented pride, encouragement, and the warm feeling of belonging in a classroom filled with friends.
Now in Deir Al-Ahmar, Rami says he feels safer than before. The loud sounds that once made him cry are further away. But safety does not erase the longing for normal life.
What Rami wants is simple. “I want peace,” he says. “I want to go back to my normal life and see my friends again.”
For Rami, peace means a classroom, a school bag on his shoulders, and a teddy bear sitting quietly beside him while he learns his next math lesson.
Like many children affected by displacement, Rami carries both fear and hope in his small heart. And while the world around him feels uncertain, his wish remains beautifully clear — to return to a life where the only challenge he has to solve is the next math equation on the board.
