Burkun Olena, 17 years old

Winner of the 2024 essay contest, 2st place

Lyceum № 21 "Nadvorsklyanskyi" of the Poltava City Council

Teacher who inspired to write an assay - Victoriia Mykolaivna Hontar

 

«1000 days of war. My way»

I am carefully reviewing the pages of my life during 1000 days of war. 1000 days of explosions, destruction, loss, and hardship.

Memories... How good and peaceful life was the day before in peaceful Ukraine.

Someone in Kyiv or Mariupol was walking with a baby carriage in a park. Someone in Bucha or Irpin was preparing seedlings of tomatoes, peppers, and cabbage to plant in their gardens. Someone in Kharkiv or Dnipro was cleaning windows and renovating their homes. Someone in Lviv or Kherson was baking cookies for a birthday party or school fair. And someone in Sumy or Poltava was packing a suitcase to go on holiday.

Someone in Mykolaiv or Odesa was walking down the streets of a night city holding hands. Somewhere in Zaporizhzhia or Cherkasy, a mother woke up to her baby crying.

And I, a lucky student, was hard at work preparing for the All-Ukrainian Student Olympiad in Ukrainian Language and Literature. Indeed, the human imagination has no limits. Yet our minds were drawing disturbing pictures at the time.

In fact, no one believed that on the gloomy, harsh morning of February 24, 2022, the war would knock on the door, come as an uninvited guest to our doorstep with black and empty eyes.

Oh, how cold it was! Fear and anger gripped every Ukrainian, because everywhere it went, it became scary.

The war. One black cloud of grief has grown over Ukraine. With its gaze, it looks into souls, tries to take away everything human, leaving children orphaned, women widowed, husbands and sons disabled, people's dreams unfulfilled, their psyche damaged.

It is true what they say, war does not have a woman's face.

The war. I used to read books about it, watch films, and sometimes dream about it. Today, its terrible smell is in the air, cities and villages destroyed, the environment ruined. I wake up in the morning and dream that these 1,000 days were just a bad dream, but I hear sirens, explosions, tears and less and less the laughter of children.

My grandmother used to say: ‘Please, not a war. It's scary, granddaughter, to die’. And today she repeats it: ‘It is so scary to live’.

1000 days of pain and loss. War does not spare anyone. It takes a lot of effort to stop the enemy. My mother reiterates that we are not Ukrainians without pain and loss, because to take away our freedom is to make us indifferent.

‘It's better to let it hurt,’ she says, ’so that we can remember, not forgive, fight and win’.

On January 6, 2024, trouble knocked on our door. I still remember my father's funeral. The bright, usually gentle sun was shining treacherously, as if it wanted to blind me, to deprive me of my sight. The tears that poured out of my eyes dried on my cheeks, boiling from the heat of the rays, causing unbearable itching. The frost penetrated to the very bones, twisting them. It's cold.

Cold. Gusty cold wind, cold snow. And he was so cold. Cold... I could not protect myself from the mine. It caught up with me and hugged me insidiously. He left me forever. My soul hurts because he is not with me.

A tear runs down my cheek. I don't know where my mother and grandmother get their strength from, where they find the patience not to burst into tears in front of me and my little brother. What heavenly powers give them the comfort to support us, to smile when their souls are torn with pain?

Once again, I am convinced that no matter what happens, no matter how life tests you, you must always live and move on.

1000 days of resilience. Bucha, Izium, Irpin, Mariupol, Gostomel... The atrocities and war crimes committed here shocked the whole world. I remember our trip to my grandmother's house in Irpin after the city was liberated. Destroyed houses, broken roads, mutilated cars, gloomy faces of people. The earth was groaning and screaming, and tear-stained prayers could be heard somewhere. We were repairing my grandmother's house and cleaning the estate.

Imagine my surprise when I saw a mangled viburnum bush near my house among the broken trees.

It used to delight the eye with its white flowers in spring and ruby branches in autumn, but today it was crying lonely. The red juice of the berries reminded me of the blood of the fallen defenders and civilians.

1000 days of faith and hope. The war divided my life into before and after.

I grew up quickly, but I want to return to my childhood, to be small, carefree, wearing funny slippers, smelling my mother's pancakes, semolina with vanilla and having my dad by my side. The wound is still burning, and I feel that I am different.

What helps me to live today? I often go to the field, listen to the silence for hours, when you don't hear explosions and sirens.

The silence is crystal-clear and defenselessly trembling, the air smells fresh, and a nightingale is wailing somewhere, which gives me hope for the best. Sometimes I just walk between people, stroll along the busy streets of the city, carefully looking at the faces of strangers. I am as happy as a child when I see the smiles of passers-by.

I understand that life does not stop despite all the terrible events. I know that hard times will pass, and Ukraine will be reborn for happiness. It deserves it.

The war has taught me to thank the invincible soldiers for defending Ukraine every day, to weave camouflage nets, to volunteer, to empathise, to be resilient and stress-resistant.

1000 days of war.  Ukraine is fighting to survive. We cannot be defeated, stopped or broken, because we are a strong nation that wants to live. The main thing is not to lose faith and hope.