Prystupa Yaroslav, 16 years old

Winner of the 2025 essay contest, 2nd place

“Credo” Lyceum, Kryvyi Rih

The teacher who inspired the writing of the essay – Petrenko Olena Yakivna

“The event that changed everything. The power of help”

Friday evening, April 4th, in Kryvyi Rih… The work week had ended, and the city was sinking into a peaceful — at least as peaceful as it can be today — evening: someone was walking their pet, somewhere on a playground a swing was creaking and children's laughter was ringing out. I had come to visit my godfather — this helps me distract myself from everyday life during these difficult times. Moreover, my godfather has a son, Sviatoslav, and we are best friends. The kettle was boiling in the kitchen, and we sat down to drink fragrant tea with treats.

The phone buzzed: “Air raid alert. Kryvyi Rih — immediately to shelter!” I barely made it to the hallway… explosion! We called out to each other — to check if anyone had been hurt, and then everything felt like a dream… It was a loud explosion of a cluster munition.

All of us instinctively rushed outside. I had only seen something like this in a war movie! Children’s bodies were lying on the playground with their eyes open, many people were thrown onto the roadside by the blast wave. A man ran out of a neighboring building, dressed in a uniform with the word “Paramedic” on it, and we began bandaging and treating the wounded—it all happened on instinct, but with clarity… A car was running a bit farther from us — the driver had died from a shrapnel wound to the chest… A little boy was barely breathing, and that gave hope for life.

We didn’t know their names, but I remember every face, every thankfulness in their eyes, even when lips couldn’t form words.

Every minute was priceless — for someone, it gave a chance for a second birthday. That moment I felt that even without special training, a person can become a rescuer if there is compassion and determination in their heart. A few minutes later, many people arrived to help — various services and the dreadful vans marked “200.” Everyone continued helping together, each in their own way! No one thought about themselves — only about those who needed help.

That day our city was a single body — bleeding, sobbing, but not giving up — we stood against the enemy.

God, how much grief and pain I felt then: a mother and father bent over their son, who would forever remain 15; next to him, his girlfriend; a grandfather and a little girl who had simply been walking from the playground; a boy with a bandaged head bent over his mother, whose voice would forever remain in his memory…

By morning, all the city’s residents were bringing flowers and toys to the site of the tragedy. When I also came to honor these angels, it felt as if I could hear their voices carried away by the wind, and hot tears rolled from my eyes… I stood, holding my breath. My help — the help each of us could give — our unity in a moment of grief, was vital support. 

This unity and humanity helped those around us feel that they were not alone in their sorrow. Every resident of our steel city felt this grief.

This tragedy that happened on April 4th in Kryvyi Rih forever cut my heart with a pain that cannot be silenced. It became a wound that will not heal, but also a point of no return, after which I will never be the same. That evening I saw hell. Tears, blood, buildings destroyed to the foundation, children’s toys scattered next to lifeless bodies… This pain was not from a movie, not from the news, but real, bitter, pulsing in my chest. And at the same time, I saw something else — something incredible — I saw the birth of unbreakable unity: people who just a second earlier were trembling from explosions in dark apartments, were already running into danger. Someone was carrying water, someone — bandages. Others were pulling the wounded from under the rubble, holding the hands of those who cried, who screamed, who were silent from shock.

No one waited for orders. No one asked, “Why me?” Because we are — together! Because these are ours! Because this is — Ukraine! And its heart beats in each of us!

My perception of unity changed fundamentally: I realized that Ukrainians are not just a community united by language or territory — we are a force born in the hardest moments, we know how to come together around someone else’s pain as if it were our own. In those hours, no one asked where you were from, what your job was, whether you knew medicine — everyone did what they could: held the hand of the wounded, looked for a first-aid kit, called relatives, comforted children screaming in fear.

And this is the true portrait of Ukraine!

This event had a powerful impact on my personal vision of the future. If before I thought I didn’t have enough strength or importance to change anything, now I know: even one person can be a support for others. It became clear to me that the future of our country is being created here and now — through every action, every helping hand, every “I’m here.”

And I can no longer allow myself to stand aside. I want to live with a sense of responsibility for what comes next — for myself, for my family, for my city, for my country.

At the same time, my vision of Ukraine’s future has become brighter, despite the pain. I believe that we will be able to recover, to endure, and to build a strong, humane state, because our hearts are united not by fear, but by love — for life and for one another. We have shown the whole world that Ukraine is about dignity, about strength of spirit, and about unbreakable faith in goodness. And in this faith, I will continue to live, to act, to help.

That bloody evening will remain in my memory forever not because it was terrifying, but because in that darkest moment I saw how much light lives in people — we were together in that grief! And together, we did everything we could to save lives and give support. This is my personal frontline, and I will never forget it.