Burchenia Nazar, 16 years old

Winner of the 2024 essay contest, 3st place

Focal institution: Sosnivka Lyceum of the Sosnivka Village Council of the Rivne District of the Rivne Region

Teacher who inspired to write an assay - Melnyk Liubov Antonivna

 

«1000 days of war. My way»

Oleksandr Dovzhenko taught people to live in such a way that they could see stars even in puddles. I want to trample on the ragweed again, just like that! Today, leaving the lyceum, I forgot for a moment that I am a graduate after all. Yes, I will allow myself to do this! I just looked into the mirror that Rain lost in front of my house, running away from the Sun.

And there is depth all the way to the sky! And a different world that does not know War. (Remember, it already lasted for 1000 days!).

The Sun, Camel Clouds, Lion Clouds, Bunnies, Ponies, Crocodiles, Trees, Houses and Me, but I am so small that it’s ridiculous. I want to step into this mirror, but wait a minute… I need a parachute. I don’t have one? Give me at least a dandelion, and more than one. I will hold on to their stems and quietly wander.

Now you understand: Dovzhenko’s Beauty lives there and I want to be with it forever. This is my path. So, in an ordinary puddle, I still see such a mirror!

Today, the war celebrates its anniversary with the sounds of sirens and rocket explosions. I repeat once again: it has been1000 days. Those days are special. Black, red, bloody, bitter, salty, cold, hungry, wet, dark, citric acid... And 1000 such words for 1000 days already! It's scary. Anniversary. I clench my teeth so tightly that it’s as if "my heart chirped with a bar."

But I am no longer afraid and boldly look war in the eye. Yes, folk wisdom from time immemorial states: eyes are the mirror of the soul.

War, your eyes are not a mirror, but only artificial sparkles. Do you hear? Not even ice crystals, which, although cold, but, dying on a hot child's palm, leave a handful of warm tears. And it is impossible to drown in your eyes, the look of death has no depth. Do you have them at all? And your smile is full of betrayal, contempt, hypocrisy, hatred, meanness.

And don't purse your lips. They are full of the blood of father, mother, daughter, son, sister, brother. Believe me, just a little longer, and you will fall into the abyss.

Listen, can you hear how my heart is beating right now? I read poetry, do tests, talk with friends, prove theorems, talk about kinetic energy, conduct experiments, memorize vocabulary, participate in volleyball competitions and a charity fair, prepare for competitions, weave camouflage nets, help my parents.

How my heart beats! This is my path today, on which there never was and never will be a place for you, war, do you hear?

Here is my native land, which, as the hero of one film story said, can be eaten. There has not yet appeared among people such hatred that could burn, destroy, trample, kill my love for the native land of my parents, grandfathers, great-grandfathers. And yet (again, like Mykola Gogol) there never was and never will be a force that could tear out of my chest a heart full of love for the word, customs, traditions of the Ukrainian people. I want to repeat the words of Pavlo Tychyna: “I am a people whose true power has never been conquered by anyone.”

War, this is not your anniversary, this is 1000 days of your shame and infamy. For each of us, this is 1000 days of challenging our conscience, loyalty, love, mercy, support, indomitability. We will stand. I am confident, I will stand, this is my path.