The Voices of Ukrainians

  “Mom, how long are we going to stay here in the Czech Republic?” 8 year old Bodya asked Anya as they walked home one day. “I’m not sure.  One month, maybe two.  We have to get you and your brother back to Ukraine before school starts in September.”   Anya had only brought the boys back to Czech Republic from Ukraine earlier in the week.  “Why are you asking?”   “It’s easier here in the Czech Republic.  It’s easier away from the war.  I’m tired of the war.  In Ukraine everyone is always talking about the war.  I just wish that they would stop.  At night the sirens wake me up and I don’t like the sound.  I’m tired of always having to go to the basement during school.  And I don’t like the sound of the explosions.” Each sentence that Bodya spoke hit Anya like a punch in the stomach.   Bodya and the rest of his family in Kyiv, Ukraine had just lived through the two most difficult months that that part of Ukraine had experienced since the first days of the war.  Two months,

     I have been in Ukraine during many air raid alerts and have been close enough to hear and feel a number of explosions (primarily Russian missile being shot out of the sky), but, strangely, I haven’t actually been around Ukrainians throughout the duration of an air raid until this past week.   I had gone to a small warehouse store where I buy nails for my framing gun.  In the middle of placing my order, everyone’s phones started dinging.  Kyiv was under an air raid alert.  The young man who was helping me just kept working on his computer, but his colleague immediately stood up, looking at her phone and started wondering out loud if we should go to a shelter or if we should stay put.  Within a few seconds another worker came in from outside, and a lady came down the stairs.  They were all on their phones.   “Ballistic missiles.”   said the man “… heading towards the Kyiv area.”  Said the woman who had just come down the stairs.   There was a moment when everyone let t