The plight of Syria's refugee children: Fear, poverty and a freezing winter There are no formalised refugee camps for Syrians in Lebanon, like you hear of in countries like Jordan or Iraq. Instead, the more than 800,000 refugees are scattered across 960 municipalities in informal, makeshift settlements, posing significant challenges for aid delivery. Akram lives in the Bekaa Valley, where many families are living in horrendous conditions - with no access even to cooking facilities or decent sanitation. His temporary settlement, Faida, is carved out by a river, whose banks are lined with rubbish. Scores of families arrived in this bare patch of land and built their shacks from scratch using any materials they could find. Ten minutes down the road in either direction, you'll find similar clusters of small-scale and makeshift homes. There are 6,000 refugees in the five settlements that neighbour each other. All are surrounded by fields where Syrians who were once doctors or teachers in their home country are picking potatoes for hours on end to try to make ends meet. Rubbish strewn in the river behind the refugee camp in Faida (KATE BROOKS/UNICEF) These over-crowded and unsanitary conditions need just one storm to set off a terrible chain reaction. The cold weather already makes children susceptible to respiratory infections like pneumonia. Shacks don't have heating and, as the relentless rain pours down, the river floods and water washes through the filthy conditions bringing the risk of a disease outbreak. Combined with higher food prices in the winter season, malnutrition, especially for the youngest children, is a real threat. I visited Faida, as the organisation was delivering its first winter supplies of the season. Instead of families queuing, aid workers delivered every box to each family individually in an effort to preserve dignity. Inside each were carefully-planned contents. Local staff had gathered the requirements of every single family in advance. How old were the children? Were they boys or girls? What shoe size did they have? Out of boxes poured tiny winter boots, hats, coats, thermal underwear, jumpers and trousers. A mother makes her way over a makeshift bridge in the camp with her malnourished son (KATE BROOKS/UNICEF) The Syria crisis is deeply complex. But here was something quite straightforward. I walked into a settlement and, in the space of an hour, I literally felt the temperature drop and the rains begin. I saw Akram, a barefoot child, living in desperate circumstances, amongst horrendous sanitation. Then suddenly I saw that same child with boots and warm clothes on. And the money for those boots comes from people donating. That's about as straightforward as it gets. We need a peaceful political solution to bring children's suffering to an end. However, in the meantime, we have to do everything we can in humanitarian mode to stop an entire generation of Syrian children being lost to the conflict. We need more vital supplies such as blankets, warm clothes and medicine - as well as providing children with access to education and psychological support. These children are not so far from our own. I talked to children now in desperate circumstances, who had once lived lives not dissimilar to children in the UK. They used to watch television and play with their friends in nice homes in nice suburbs. Now they have been transported to another world with unimaginable challenges. A young boy in adult flip flops (KATE BROOKS/UNICEF) The Halally family, with five children, who weathered last year's winter, told me the snow was knee-deep in December and January. They used to have a house and a car and a comfortable life in Syria. Now they've been in the camp for two years, living in a tent. The daughter of another family was studying law back in Syria, and is now close to destitution. They feel like their dignity is gone. Meeting these people challenged my unconscious assumption that people who are refugees have somehow always lived like this. I realised how easy it is to normalise the situation and to think that people are used to this. This is not what their identity is. They are reeling every moment, wondering how they ended up in such desperate straits. Just like I would if it happened to you or me. Stories like these are going to multiply over the coming weeks and months. Charities are doing everything they can - but the number of refugees is huge and keeps growing, while funds are short. Just before I arrived, around 10,000 people had poured into Lebanon in just a couple of days. Children play by the Faida tented settlement (KATE BROOKS/UNICEF) Lebanon's resources are at breaking point. Imagine, in times of austerity, your neighbour's house burned down and you took them in and offered them shelter. How would you feel if they were still there, after three years? This tiny nation, with a population of just over four million, is bursting at the seams. By the end of the year, it's thought there will be 400,000 school-age Syrian children in the country. There are only 300,000 Lebanese children currently in the public school system. Not far from Akram's shack, Unicef - the United Nations Children's Fund - has set up schools in tents to try to take some of the strain. I joined in a class where children sang of their homes in Syria in an attempt to remember their nation. Their energy is incredible, even amid this chaos. But, unfortunately, funds don't stretch to a space in class for every child. I met many kids who had been out of education for more than two years. Health services in Lebanon are also unable to cope with the extra demand. Mobile clinics have been set up that travel round these tiny settlements providing free healthcare. On my visit to one clinic, I met a woman with her baby son who was being treated for malnutrition. Doctors told me they were seeing more and more cases of pneumonia as the winter weather set in. I'm tired of hearing people say that the situation in Syria is hopeless and there's nothing we can do. If every child in Lebanon and neighbouring countries is to be reached, more funds are needed. Now is the time to act. Until the end of January, all public donations made to Unicef's work for the children of Syria will be matched pound for pound by the Government. As I drive away, I think of a little girl, Hana, I met first thing in the day, in her class under canvas. Eight years old, she sang with her feet planted firmly and her eyes alight: "We are children and we have the right to be happy." We owe them that chance. All money raised for UNICEF's work for the children of Syria will be matched pound for pound by the UK Government until the end of January. You can help at home by texting 'SYRIA' to 70007 to donate £5 to the children of Syria. To donate online, visit www.unicef.org.uk. To donate by telephone please call 0800 044 5885.