From the first day of the war, Liudmyla Vizirenko — a nurse from Lysanka — could not stay aside. Her front line is a volunteer medical point, where she collects first-aid kits, consults, treats, and supports the soldiers — among them, her own son.

Her phone does not fall silent even at night — that’s when the messages arrive: “Aunt Liuda, I’m alive.” She signs every little packet with a marker — “this is for the head, this is for the stomach” — and sends it to the frontline. She says: “They have no choice. But I don’t have one either. Either he dies there from a fever — or I help him.” 

Liudmyla has been volunteering since 2014. Despite her exhaustion, the medic speaks about her fighters with tenderness: “They’re like children. Pure souls. They’ll share the last they have, even their own clothes — so that someone else has enough.”

Her faith is simple and strong: to help, to understand, to embrace with words. And even when there is no medicine — humanity is always there.