In a hospital room in Ashdod, Israel, 22-year-old Suhail Abo Dawood smiles through pain. Just days ago, he was caught in an Israeli attack that hit the Holy Family parish in Gaza, where he and other Christians had sought refuge. Now, recovering from multiple surgeries after shrapnel tore through his body, Suhail clings not to bitterness, but to something more radical: love.
“Peace will return to Gaza,” he tells L’Osservatore Romano, the Holy See’s semi-official newspaper, where he has occasionally contributed. “Because love is stronger than war.”
Suhail’s words are not naive optimism. They are forged in suffering. On Thursday morning, as missiles struck the compound of Gaza’s only Catholic parish, Suhail was inside. It is a place he considers home — where faith, family, and community help him make sense of a world unraveling around him.
The violence shattered that fragile sanctuary. But amid the wreckage, Suhail survived. He was taken out of the Gaza Strip that night and admitted to a hospital in Ashdod, a rare transfer made possible only by the intervention of Catholic leaders on both sides of the border, as reported by Vatican News.
Fr. Gabriel Romanelli, the parish priest of Holy Family, had been in contact with Suhail’s mother, Randa. “We prayed that he would live,” she said. “And he did. God has given him back to us,” Vatican News reported.
Though still weak, Suhail insisted on meeting the Vatican reporter who visited him. “We always said we’d meet in Rome or Gaza when peace comes,” he joked. “I never imagined it would be here, in a hospital room.”
[Watch a brief video of the interview here.]
Suhail is a student of literature, a gifted writer, and a thoughtful Catholic voice in the Holy Land. His most recent article for L’Osservatore Romano, written just days before the strike, is about grandmothers. He reflects on life inside the parish compound — where several families have been living communally for over 330 days since the war began.
“We share almost everything,” he wrote, “including the food the Church gives us.” He focused in particular on the bond between children and the elderly.
“Three weeks ago, a grandmother named Magy died of a sudden illness,” he wrote. “She had been strong through 10 months of war. Her death surprised us and saddened us.” He remembers her as honest, loyal, and deeply devout — she never missed Mass and always held her rosary in hand.
“We often see children and the elderly here praying together, playing, laughing. These relationships between generations are still strong — here in our parish, and throughout the Middle East.”
That sense of communion, even in crisis, animates Suhail’s writing.
