Between darkness, hope with a firm grip of a mother's hand
The situation in Ukraine is tense and we feel it every single day in a way that can hardly be put into words. Massive Russian attacks on critical infrastructure, especially on energy facilities, repeatedly pull the rug out from under our feet. Electricity and water go out, darkness becomes part of everyday life, and security feels foreign. Tonight, I was in the cellar with my mom again. It was extremely loud around us, the noises made the ground vibrate, and every minute seemed endless. We sat close together, held hands, and prayed quietly, because sometimes words are not enough. The neighbors were with us too; they no longer have heating and were seeking shelter and warmth. We shared what little food we had without hesitation, because unity is more important than possessions. In moments like these, you realize just how much people need each other. Despite the fear, we are grateful to have each other and not have to go through this night alone. I keep asking myself when life can return to normal. Christmas is coming soon, but there's no sign of peace. Instead, there's a heavy tension in the air, as if hope itself is growing quieter. And yet, we cling to it, because we want to believe that one day there will be nights again when cellars remain empty and people can fall asleep without fear.
