6:08 p.m. – that was the minute Roger’s world ended.
Before 6:08, Roger had everything. At 6:08, all he had left were memories. When the shockwave ripped through Beirut, his wife and daughter were together in the ward at Saint George Hospital. They were killed instantly.
Today, Roger lives just 600 meters from the blast site. But “lives” is too strong a word. He camps in an abandoned building, its wounds mirroring his own: battered walls, boarded-up windows, twisted wires. Time stopped here the very same second his life collapsed. The explosion didn’t only take his family. It also stole his job, his savings, his health, and his purpose.
Roger is sick, and doctors fear the worst—cancer. Each day is a fight for survival, a quiet attempt to scrape together money for tests. He still needs $200 for a CT scan, a sum he will never be able to raise on his own.
Roger isn’t asking for a better quality of life. He is asking for rescue. For someone to help restart the clock that has been frozen since that day. Your help isn’t just support. It is an intervention.
Thanks to you:
When Dr. Harouny visits, Roger takes down from the wall a small picture of St. Charbel that survived the blast and says: “Look, it survived the explosion—maybe I will too.”
Adopt a senior. Let Roger know he is not alone in the ruins of his world.