This morning, crossing the border, we saw 2 youngish-looking women saying goodbye to their husbands. Long hugs, many tears. I couldn’t take their photo and intrude on what could be a final moment between them. I barely held back my tears thinking, could I say goodbye to my husband or son knowing he was an unprepared, untrained soldier against a ruthless enemy?
Very busy day at a shelter with 450 people.
There is a wonderful solidarity among the Ukrainian people. The school dorms turned into shelters with volunteers cooking, doing laundry, helping each other. There is no laughter in the halls and serious phone conversations in hallways as people try to connect with loved ones and get updates on their homes, their community. What is gone, what is left.
The refugees express gratefulness and appreciation for our medical care and there are many hugs and tears as people break down for a moment before returning to their stoic stance for their children. It is hard. Our driver is from KHARKIV which has been under bombardment for weeks and suffering incredible destruction. His face has more lines every day. He has left his home and business and stays with a relative in Chenivfitzi in a 2 bedroom apartment with 15 people.
Our team is working really well together. Triage, consultation, treatment and pharmacy. We have a great translator ~ the mighty OLEG . And today a lovely young woman volunteered all day to translate. She refused to be paid when we offered her some money.
Coming back across the border it was very cold but as we waited for our passports to be stamped, we get 4 every day, there was a beautiful sunset. We turned around to see the full moon risin. How is it that there can be such beauty on this planet and such man-made devastation?
