Ukraine War Day #824: Escaping To Russia – Part IV

Dear Readers:

Today continuing (and concluding) this story about an ordinary working woman and her family, who, along with millions of other refugees, escaped from the Donbass to Russia. We have watched them rebuilding their lives with material assistance from volunteer organizations. Which good people help their fellow man to maintain a shred of human dignity in a cruel and heartless world that is collapsing from the weight of war.

I have done the best I can with my translation, but I fear I have not really captured a lot of the Russian colloquialisms and everyday humor in Natalia’s speech.

A volunteer organization associated with the Moscow Patriarchate donates children’s clothing.

Natalia: Refugees from the Ukraine have been helped, not just by volunteer organizations, but also individual, ordinary people like themselves. My girlfriend arrived in Zelenograd with her whole family: husband, three children, elderly parents. Maria Makeeva had an acquaintance whose apartment happened to be empty at that time. And he allowed the family to settle in his empty apartment, without taking rent from them. They lived there for three months, which was enough time for them to get back on their feet.

Refugees help other refugees. Zelenograd has many refugees, and we have what Russians jokingly call “Radio Sarafan” [yalensis: female gossip circles, named after the traditional Russian embroidered dress, the sarafan]. These circles spread the knowledge, who is who, and who needs what. For example, I recently donated a lot of winter clothing, shoes and even ice skates, that my own kids had grown out of, but could be perfect for younger kids. And, in return, I took a small sofa from a woman who didn’t need it any more. Another woman I know makes these little colorful rubber hair ties, and all the little girls in our neighborhood go around wearing them, they look so cute!

Volunteer medics from Tambov help refugees from Mariupol.

There is one very important task that I still have to get to: I need to formalize our guardianship over the two girls. They are still living on their Ukrainian paperwork. But there is a catch: I cannot adopt them unless I physically return to Kremennaya. Not only that, but I would have to take the two girls back with me, to appear in person, because that is how the procedure works. I have been reassured [by Russian authorities] that the Ukrainian documents are still valid until 2026, so that nobody can take the girls away from me. But they are growing up too, and the time will come when they need to get their affairs in order. I am hoping that someday everything will quiet down, and we can all return home, to Kremennaya.

I long to return to Kremennaya and stay there, once and for all. Well, the house that we used to live in, it’s been damaged, the Ukrainians did finally succeed in taking down that transformer. The windows have been blown out, the roof is damaged, there are holes in the wall the size of a fist, the fence has turned into a cheese grater. One shell landed in the dirt directly behind the house, and sappers had to disarm it. The gas pipe was also damaged, it was pierced by a fragment. It was only a miracle that saved the house from blowing up — our neighbors plugged up the hole in the gas pipe with wood chips. Once all of this has finished and we get back home, we are going to have a lot of work on our hands, fixing everything: We will need a new roof, new windows, patch up all the holes. Our older sons don’t want us to leave, they say, “Mama! There is no reason for you to ever go back!” But my husband and I, we really want to go back. After all, that is the place where my parents are buried, that is my native land.

More than anything, I want to see peace and quiet. I long to wake up in the morning in my own home, walk out into the yard – as if nothing had ever happened. As if this were all just a bad dream, and now I am awake.

I also want to see the children strong on their own feet, and I want them to be able to forget that any of this ever happened. Right now they are normal kids, they have recovered completely from all that they endured in Kremennaya. It took a while though: When we first arrived in Zelenograd they were very jumpy, all it took was the sound of a firework going off, and they would immediately hurl themselves to the ground.

But the main thing for me: When I think back over my life, the first thing that I remember is not the war, but I think of that day when my third son was born. It was winter, I was 36 years old, already I was not a youngster any more. But what a marvelous happiness I felt! I feel that my husband and I are very fortunate people. We have five children, four grandchildren, and there might be even more in the future. A large family: This is our salvation, and our joy. Everything else is just trivial.

[THE END]