The air of Gaza's cold winter night burned, as did her face, and she whispered, "Lord, it's eighteen days…Eighteen days at Your mercy, on Your earth and under Your skies…Eighteen days in the cold, while the planes are bombing around him…Lord, by Your generosity I will bury him, just let me see him, and I will bury him after that…O Lord, Your eye is on him, protecting him…I have entrusted him to You…His return will cool the fire in me before the farewell…O Lord…He intended to be martyred and trusted You, o Lord…Believe him, and make him one of the honoured martyrs."