Her Fight Expanded Our Mission—and Gave Shape to an Animal Sanctuary.

When we found her on the street, she weighed just over one pound—abandoned, fragile, unnamed, and barely holding on. She was suffering from coryza, a severe and highly contagious viral illness that attacks the nose, eyes, and lungs. For kittens this small, it can quickly become deadly.

We faced impossible decisions as her body was tiny, her strength fragile, and every day felt uncertain. Surgery could save her—but anesthesia could also take her life. She was simply too weak. And so, the fight became daily. For three long weeks, she was carried to the clinic every single day for antibiotics, vitamins, and fluid therapy. At home, one of our dedicated volunteers, Zineb, cared for her with extraordinary patience—medications drop by drop, food by syringe, warmth always waiting.

Because she struggled to breathe, those same weeks required three daily nebulizer sessions. The soft hum of the machine became part of her survival. And surrounding all of it was something medicine alone can never replace: presence, perseverance, and love.

When her eye worsened and became dangerous, surgery could no longer wait and alhamdulillah, against all odds, her small body held on and she survived. In the midst of illness and uncertainty, she kept fighting. Day after day, treatment after treatment, setback after setback, she endured more than her small body should have been able to withstand. Watching her fight, we began to realize that something was happening to us as well.

At first, we could not name it. But as the days passed, as care continued and her strength slowly returned, it became clear that her struggle was giving us something we did not expect. Watching her fight day after day, we realized she had already given us something we could not name at first. Only later did we understand—she had given us hope. That is how she was named.

Hope was not a feeling. It was not optimism. It was responsibility made real. It was care in action. It was the understanding that when a life is placed in our path, it is a trust.

Today, Hope weighs 4 pounds. She is blind in one eye, and her body carries the memory of everything she endured. And yet she is happy. Playful. Affectionate. Fully present. She greets life with a quiet strength that humbles everyone who meets her. Hope is not alone. Her brother and sister, Pokito and Nala, live with a genetic condition affecting their back legs. They move differently—but they are independent, playful, and deeply bonded. Together, they have built a small world where safety exists.

Long before Hope, our mission was rooted in caring for orphans and the vulnerable, serving those entrusted to us, responding to need with action. Her fight did not change that mission. It expanded it. Through her, we were reminded that mercy is not selective, that care is not conditional, and that no life is too small, too sick, or too difficult to be worthy of effort.

The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ taught: “In every living being there is reward.” Caring for life is itself a source of meaning. Hope’s story gave form to that teaching in a way we could not ignore. Her struggle shaped a sanctuary—a place where compassion becomes action, where healing is pursued even when the outcome is uncertain, and where presence matters as much as medicine.

That is why this sanctuary exists and appropriately named HOPE LIVES HERE. It is not just for one cat—but for the countless unseen, injured, and forgotten animals still waiting. Hope is one life. But there are many more like her.

And they need us.