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Short Stories from Ukraine:

Long story short, I arrived in Ukraine safely.

Upon my arrival, I was roomed with a young woman in a college dormitory near where supplies for refugees were being stored. On my first night on campus my roommate invited me (in Russian translated through Viber) to worship and communion at the home of a couple she knew.

We walked through the streets of Ukraine as the sun went down. My only navigation was my new roommate. She was sweet, beautiful, and hospitable. Together we shared the words for "right" and "left" in our own languages as we made turns on our walk. We giggled. We smiled. We enjoyed each other's company.

Soon we arrived at our destination and were buzzed through a locked door. The flight of stairs we fumbled up were barely lit. Each step, stair after stair, was deliberate so as to not trip as we spiraled up a few flights to the couple's apartment.


We were welcomed in and offered house slippers to change into. Communion was a meal, worship was singing to the strumming of guitar. Batman was their cat with a mustache on his face. And Sara was the couple's child.

Sara was hospitalized at a young age with an inability to swallow on her own. She had a feeding tube through which she was served dinner, and then placed to bed with an oxygen mask to sleep. Three languages were spoken that night between the four of us adults. It was beautiful. I made friends with the couple and as we discussed photography, I offered to take their family photos.

Days later I was picked up from the college where I was staying and again tried on the navigation of my new friends that took me into the country to the place where they were married. It was beautiful, green and lush like Oregon. There we spent some time doing a family session.



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