Stories that you confided to us
I was alone with my parents. My mother was blind, disabled, and she died in 2015. I have to wander around through rented apartments and dragged the children with me.
Natalia Ivanivna is 73 years old, she is a very kind person, a good person. Her husband died, leaving the other half of the house empty. And she let me live: "Pay for the light, pay for the gas, live with the kids for now." But it's not forever, because she has three grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren herself. And one day I'll have to move out of here again.
Children and I live in one apartment, then in another. They ask: "Mother, why do we live here and there?” Wherever we lived, they considered it their home, and I explain to them that I do not have a home of my own.
Sometimes they shoot heavily, but compared to what was before, it is incomparable, we are already used to it.
The worst thing is that when we get in the car, the children all sit down – and then a shell explodes nearby, bullets fly. It is so scary. Everyone got down, a bullet flew right over me! That was the worst part.
I worried about children, I was afraid. I'm the only one here for them. If I'm not there, who will take care them? The children will go to boarding schools, which I don't want. They have no one, no grandparents. I am raising and bringing them up alone, so I am very worried about my sons.
I tried to explain that this is a war, that it's not so terrible. I tried to change the topic, tell fairy tales, play games – distract them. If I distract them, draw something, read books, it calms them down.
It was scary. We mostly spent time in basements. The smaller one cries a lot. Even if it's just thunder, he shouts so horribly. He runs, thinks they're already shooting.
Bullets were flying, the neighbors were hit by a bomb. The barn was completely bombed, the roof was completely blown off, and we didn't have a roof either. Here we had a shop, it was blown into small pieces. There are no windows. They were closed with wooden panels. A lot of people were hurt, a lot of people.
The war did nothing good. It only scares, mostly children, it is necessary first of all to think about children.
We didn't go to school due to martial law. We will go this year, we hope. I taught them. At least they know the alphabet. Maxim, can a little bit read the syllables, for Nazarchyk, of course, it is more difficult, he not read yet. But they write. They count and write.
It's very hard sometimes, I cry at night. But I am a believer, I have my own faith. I just go to bed at night and address God. I tell Him thank you for the fact that I have children so beautiful that we are not blind, not lame, that we are healthy. I thank Him for all that he has given to me.
The most important thing is that I have children. I live for them, because they make me live, to give them something better in life.
When quoting a story, a reference to the source – the Museum of Civilian Voices of the Rinat Akhmetov Foundation – is mandatory, as follows:
The Museum of Civilian Voices of the Rinat Akhmetov Foundation https://civilvoicesmuseum.org/
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