As the crescent moon appears, marking the start of Eid al-Fitr, happiness spreads everywhere. The streets fill with the smell of delicious sweets, homes glow with lanterns, and laughter echoes through the air, creating a beautiful atmosphere of joy.

For a Palestinian pharmacist in Istanbul, this day brings mixed feelings—warm memories of home and a sense of belonging in a new place. I remember the scent of ma’amoul filling the morning air and my elders' prayers welcoming the day. At the same time, Istanbul’s grand mosques, the sound of the call to prayer, and the sight of seagulls over the Bosphorus give me comfort in a different way.

As a pharmacist, Eid is not just about celebration; it is also about serving others. While families gather, pharmacists continue to care for people, making sure elderly patients get their medications, and travelers find the relief they need. Sickness doesn’t take a holiday, and neither does kindness.

On this day, the pharmacy is more than just a place for medicine—it is a place of care and reassurance. A diabetic patient asks how to enjoy Eid sweets safely, and an elderly man shares stories of past Eids while waiting for his prescription. These moments remind me that healing is not just about medicine but also about being there for others with kindness and understanding.

During the celebrations, I felt the warmth of my loved ones. Talking to my mother and father, I could feel their love across the distance, their voices bringing back the traditions of home. They shared memories of our Eid gatherings in Palestine, making me feel both nostalgic and grateful. At the same time, my Turkish friends welcomed me with open arms, sharing their traditions, offering sweets, and exchanging blessings. Their kindness made me feel at home, bridging the gap between my past and my present.

Standing in the heart of Istanbul, surrounded by a mix of cultures, I see Eid al-Fitr as a link between old and new, between Palestine and Türkiye, between tradition and duty. The Adhan from the Süleymaniye Mosque touches my heart, just as the calls to prayer once did in Al-Aqsa Mosque. In this city of rich history and modern life, I celebrate Eid with gratitude—as a healer, a dreamer, and a Palestinian who belongs to two places but serves with a purpose that knows no borders.

Eid is more than just a holiday; it is a reminder that light and hope shine everywhere, no matter where we are in the world.