Author Note: This is NOT a gruesome war story. The war in Ukraine and COVID and climate change are depressing, so I wanted to write an uplifting story about people helping each other. The first chapter explains the brutality that caused a family to flee, but it's short, and the rest is about people helping each other.
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Alina (mother) :
Most of the people that fled Ukraine when Russia invaded were women and children. Our men stayed behind to fight.
My mother, Ivanna, and two daughters, Nataliya (18) and Daniela (5) and I, had already moved from a city in eastern Ukraine after it fell to the Russians. We moved west to Lviv, a city close to the Polish border, where many Ukrainians fled, hoping to wait out the war and return home later. But Russia kept moving west, bombing cities until one day my mom said we needed to move. My mom had a strong sense of women's intuition. Some said she was psychic, so I trusted her hunches. I assumed she meant we needed to leave soon, but she looked alarmed and said we needed to depart immediately.
We gathered up our meager possessions and caught the train to Poland. The next day we heard the shelter we were staying at had been bombed. It could have been us. We could have been dead.
Most Ukrainians fled to surrounding countries like Poland, Moldavia, and Romania. From there, some went to other countries further west, like Germany. The plan was to return when the fighting was over, and hopefully, our men would still be alive. In my case, there was no man to return to. My husband had died from cancer, and my dad died many years ago, and Nataliya was unattached.
My mom didn't think Putin would stop in Ukraine. She thought he was crazy and would keep moving west and didn't think any east European countries were safe.
We hoped to go to America but it was tough to get in. Then one night, mom summoned us and pointed at a map. She pointed at a small place in Canada, above Maine, called New Brunswick. I'd never heard of it, but mom was having one of her 'feelings,' so Nataliya and I started looking into Canada. To our surprise, there was no limit on how many Ukrainians could go to Canada. Nataliya got excited when she learned New Brunswick was bilingual with English and French speakers because Nataliya spoke French. I questioned the usefulness of her taking French in college, but I wasn't questioning her choice now. One of us would understand what was being said. The rest of us spoke Russian because people in eastern Ukraine were by the Russian border, and spoke Russian.
We got even more excited when we learned that individual Canadians could sponsor immigrants, and someone in the location mom pointed out had applied to sponsor a family from Ukraine. Mom gave us one of her 'knowing' smiles.
Nataliya filled out the government application form in French, and we were accepted. A week later, we arrived. Thank god! No more bombs and hopefully no more Russians!
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Ed:
Sofie had been dead for a year, but it didn't feel like it because she visited me regularly. Or, it seemed like she did.
I was devastated when she went to the doctor's office and was told she had cancer and it had spread through her body. She was dead weeks later.
But I was a life-long lucid dreamer, which meant that I could control my dreams, and Sofie began to appear in my dreams, clear as day, after she died. Was it just lucid dreaming, or was she really visiting from the other side? I didn't know or care. It FELT like she was there, and her presence comforted me. It was like she wasn't dead. She told me she was in a good place, and it was a lifesaver being able to see her and hear her voice.
I was upset when I started seeing the images of Russia invading Ukraine. The pictures of women and kids fleeing and being killed were horrible, and I wanted to help in some way.
One night, Sofie appeared and told me I should sponsor a Ukrainian family. She always had a big heart, and the Canadian government was trying to welcome Ukrainian refugees. I was reluctant because I'm an introvert, and it would be weird having strangers who didn't speak English in my house. But I had a big empty house, and Sofie was persistent. Eventually, she convinced me, or my conscience did.
So, I put my name in at the local government office. Nothing happened at first, but then I was informed that a Ukrainian family of four women had applied to move to New Brunswick. Four women! I had a panic attack, but Sofie visited me that night and assured me I could handle it. Then she grinned and told me she'd gifted me with a present and vanished without an explanation. POOF! Gone! I hated it when she did that!
I waited nervously at the Fredericton airport. Four women! Holy shit! I could barely handle one! I made a big sign with their names in large letters. Ivanna was in her late sixties, and Alina was her daughter and was around my age. Nataliya and Daniela were Alina's daughters.
The Fredricton airport is small, and it didn't take long for them to emerge. They saw my sign, and the teenage girl (Nataliya) smiled and headed toward me.
I was surprised. Nataliya looked like a typical Canadian teenage girl (she was eighteen). But Daniela was a little girl. Maybe five? Having a second daughter that many years apart must have been quite a surprise! Sofie and I tried to have kids but couldn't. Apparently, I was shooting blanks.
The female genes must have been dominant in their family because you could tell they were all related. They were all blondes with similar facial structures. All of them were attractive. Even the grandma had aged well. She was older but still had an appealing face.
Nataliya greeted me in French. I was from a bilingual part of the province, and Sofie was French Canadian, and my parents were bilingual, so speaking French was effortless although I'd never heard a Russian French accent, but she was easy to understand.
I shook their hands, and when I got to the grandma, she pulled me in for a long hug and then smiled at me with tears in her eyes which made me feel good and reduced my anxiety over having new people in my life.
When I shook the little girl's hand, she grinned at me and said, 'Hello. My name is Daniela' in perfect English. I was surprised because I didn't think any of them spoke English.
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Nataliya:
I was pleased when Ed was able to understand my Ukrainian French. It was one thing to take it at school but another to actually speak to someone. Mom didn't want me to take French at school. She said it was a waste of time and questioned where I would use it. Wrong!
Ed looked like he was mom's age. He was around six feet tall and had on jeans and work boots and a plaid wool lumberjack coat. His hands were strong and calloused when he shook my hand, and there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. His face was weathered but ruggedly handsome.
Grandma got all emotional when Ed shook her hand and gave him a long hug, and her eyes were teary when she pulled back, which was unusual for her, but we'd been through a lot, and maybe she was grateful to finally be safe.
Ed drove a large pickup truck with big tires. Mom and I and Daniela sat in the back seat, and grandma sat in the front with Ed. I had to laugh. The truck was a mess! The inside was dusty and full of crap. It reminded me of my ex-boyfriend's truck. Guys!
I was pleasantly surprised when Ed had some coffee and donuts from a place called Tim Horton's. It hit the spot after our long plane ride.
It didn't take long for the city to fade away, and we were quickly off the main highway, and then we were on a dirt road. Evergreen trees surrounded us. Then we came around a bend and were at Ed's place. It was out in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a forest. His house was awesome-looking. It was two stories with lots of windows and wood and looked like a chalet.
He carried our bags, and the house looked even cooler inside. It was all wood with huge structural beams supporting the ceiling. It was very rustic looking, but you could tell a woman had lived here. Ed's wife must have had good taste. Or maybe Ed did. I looked at Ed's clothing again. Naw! It was his wife!
The minute we entered, I smelled food, and it smelled delicious! The main floor was open concept, and I could see a kitchen table loaded with food. Then an older man came into the room carrying more food. He looked like he was grandma's age. When he saw us, he smiled and started speaking fluent Russian. I almost fell over in surprise, and mom and grandma's eyes lit up when he started talking to them.
Wow! Ed and I could speak in French, and Ed knew someone that spoke Russian, and we were in a neat house with great food. Then I spotted Vodka and beer and wine on the table. This was definitely my type of place!
Ed's friend's name was Ivan, and it turned out that he grew up in Poland, and his mom was Russian, so he spoke Polish and Russian, and English fluently. Ivan was quite the charmer and chatted away in Russian and kept filling our glasses. Ed seemed content to let Ivan do the talking, and I saw him looking at mom.
All of a sudden, the long day caught up with us, and Ed showed us to our bedrooms. Daniela and I shared a bed in one room, and mom and grandma shared a bed in another room.
Our rooms smelled like cedar. The scent was calming. I looked outside my window, and it was pitch dark and very quiet. No bombs or sirens were going off. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe and dozed off to a night of blissful warm sleep.
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