BEIRUT, May 26 (Xinhua) -- Rana Nasrallah sat quietly with her three children on the balcony of a cramped rented apartment in the mountain town of Jahliyeh in Lebanon's Chouf region.
They asked about new clothes for Eid al-Adha.
The 50-year-old mother, displaced from the southern city of Nabatieh by months of Israeli attacks, had no answers.
"Eid in our city used to bring relatives and loved ones together around meals and sacrifices," Nasrallah told Xinhua. "Today, all we think about is how to survive the dark days ahead."
"My children ask about Eid clothes like every year, I try to avoid answering them," she added softly.
Across southern Lebanon and displacement areas stretching from Sidon to Mount Lebanon, Eid al-Adha no longer resembles the festive season Lebanese families once knew. Months of war and the country's economic crisis have transformed a time of celebration into a season marked by anxiety, poverty, and displacement.
This year's Eid comes amid one of Lebanon's largest displacement crises in decades. After Israeli military operations forced hundreds of thousands of families to flee their homes in southern Lebanon, the Bekaa Valley, and Beirut's southern suburbs, more than 1.2 million people, nearly one-fifth of Lebanon's population, were displaced at the conflict's peak, according to Lebanese authorities and U.N. agencies.
Although tens of thousands have gradually returned following a ceasefire, vast border villages still suffer from widespread destruction and shortages of basic services. Thousands of families continue to live in temporary shelters, with relatives, or in rented housing.
The Ministry of Social Affairs said that around 136,000 displaced people were still living in 669 collective shelters across Lebanon by the end of March 2026.
For many, priorities have shifted dramatically, from preparing holiday feasts and buying sacrificial sheep to securing rent, food, and medicine.
"We no longer think about sacrifices or holiday visits," Nasrallah said. "All we want is for the war to stop so we can return home. The real Eid for us is going back to our house and feeling safe again."
In the village of Daraya in Lebanon's Iqlim al-Kharroub region, Abu Ali Zaher Hattoum, displaced from the border village of Haddatha, described displaced families as being "caught between two fires."
"Most people have lost their jobs or sources of income for months, while daily expenses continue to pile up," Hattoum told Xinhua. "Children are waiting for Eid, but what can we do? We can barely afford food. Even buying a simple toy now requires careful calculation."
Nawal Fahs, who fled with her children from the village of Jibchit to Sidon, said her greatest pain was seeing her children's joy constantly postponed.
"My little daughter asked me to return home for Eid, even if our house has become rubble," Fahs said. "She no longer asks for clothes or toys."
For many Lebanese, Eid this year has shifted from a religious and social celebration into a struggle to secure necessities, from food and transportation to children's clothing.
The impact has been especially visible in livestock markets. Traders and butchers estimated that demand for sacrificial animals had fallen by 70 to 80 percent compared with previous Eid seasons.
In Sidon, markets were far quieter than in previous years. Butcher Jamil al-Bissat noted that purchasing power had been severely weakened. Sheep that sold for around 200 U.S. dollars during last year's Eid season now cost between 300 and 500 dollars, while some calves exceed 2,000 dollars.
Many families have abandoned the idea of purchasing sacrificial animals or participating in collective sacrifices to reduce costs.
Traditional holiday markets that once formed part of Eid memories in southern Lebanon have largely disappeared this season. Instead, this year's holiday has increasingly revolved around humanitarian aid and community-led support initiatives.
Charities and grassroots groups have organized campaigns to distribute meat, holiday clothing, and meals to displaced and struggling families. Youth-led initiatives have emerged to arrange collective sacrifices shared by several families. Social media campaigns encouraging people to sponsor vulnerable families have spread widely.
University student Hanan Abdallah, a volunteer in a local initiative, said demand for assistance had increased significantly. "Many parents no longer ask about Eid sacrifices or holiday preparations but about milk, medicine, and rising rents," she said.
Yet, some families are still trying to preserve a symbolic sense of Eid.
Housewife Hanan Abu Jaber said some families insist on preparing homemade sweets, sharing a modest family meal, buying simple toys for children, or visiting relatives displaced to nearby areas.
"These small details have become a way to hold onto what remains of normal life amid a reality that grows harsher by the day," she told Xinhua.
