Lebanese refugee children stand in a school courtyard in Sidon. (Reuters)

SIDON, Lebanon — Some of the psychologically-scared children orphaned by the Israeli air strike on the southern village of Qana are still clinging to the hope that their loved ones may still be alive under the debris.

"Maybe mother is still alive under the ruins! Go and pull her out, I beg you. I'm sure she is still alive," Hawra Hashem, 12, told Agence France-Presse (AFP).

"Mother promised we would go for a picnic after the war, and when the bombs were falling she talked to us about the treats we would eat," she recalled.

But all of a sudden, the young child lost her mother and three brothers when Israeli planes bombarded their three-storey building in the village on July 30.

"I need my mother and I miss my brother," said the child in a hushed voice.

"What will become of me," asked the tearful young girl, now taking shelter in a center accommodating displaced Lebanese in Sidon.

Up to 1,000 Lebanese people, third of whom are children, have been killed since Israel launched a wide-scale blitz against Lebanon on July 12 on the pretext of seeking the release of two soldiers taken prisoner by Hizbullah.

The Qana carnage, the second by Israel in the southern village in ten years, has drawn international rebuke. But the UN Security Council failed to condemn the Israeli crime over American opposition to the original text.

Human Rights Watch on Thursday, August 3, accused Israel of committing war crimes and deliberately targeting civilians in its offensive in Lebanon.

In Paradise

The young child remembers her brothers, 12-year-old Hussein and Ali, who was just two and very attached to his teddy bear.

Then there was seven-year-old Ibrahim, who never strayed far from their mother Maryam's skirts.

Maryam constantly prayed to God that no harm would befall her family and four children, Hawra said.

"I call out to mother, but she doesn't come," she cried.

"I hear my brother's clumsy footsteps behind me, but when I turn round he isn't there.

"Anyway, he won't bump into things and hurt himself any more," said the young girl, tears coursing down her cheeks.

"Today they are in paradise. I wish I'd gone with them, rather than stay here alone."

The only other member of Hawra's immediate family to survive the Israeli strike was her father, who was wounded and is still in hospital in Tyre.

Changed Lives

Other orphans in the Sidon center also bitterly recall the moment they lost their families.

"I was talking about school with my friends as we listened in fear to the thunder of the Israeli planes," said Sana Shalhoub.

When the 4-year-old girl became she fell asleep by her mother's side. When she woke up again, the building had already been flattened.

"I awoke to cries of 'Anyone still alive get out!'," she said.

"I didn't hear any bang. But I did feel blood running from my head. We were in total darkness."

Sana had to step over bodies on her way out.

"I called for father and mother, but there was no reply. I found my sister Zeinab, and she told me to leave while they searched for our parents under the rubble."

Sana was taken to Tyre, but nobody told her that her parents were dead.

It was only when she got to Sidon, 40 kilometers (25 miles) to the north where displaced families go to check the lists of victims, that she finally understood.

"Neighbors recognized me and began crying when I asked if they'd seen my parents."

Mohammed Shalhoub of Qana municipal council is charged with looking after Hawra, Sana and other displaced villagers.

He does what he can to ease their suffering, and hopes time can help heal their psychologically wounds.

For now, Hawra and Sana have each other and their memories of a terrible day that changed their lives forever.