Two months before the war, I had a dream: the Mother of God was covering Saint Sophia Cathedral in Kyiv with a red cloth. I understood then that something was coming. I began training; I was preparing for a combat battalion, but they took me as a cook for the kitchen.
For the boys, it was a vital source of support. I knew the stories of over a thousand of them: who wouldn’t eat corn, whose son was ill. When they were heading to the “zero” line, they would hug me and say: “If we don’t hug Tsylyunok — we won’t return.” The most painful part was the judgment. A mother of two daughters joining the military — people didn’t forgive me for that. Many still say: “I didn’t understand you.” But everyone has their own path.
“A HUMAN BEING IS LIKE THAT BREAD; THEY MUST DIVIDE THEMSELVES AMONG EVERYONE. ONLY THEN HAVE THEY NOT GROWN THEMSELVES AS THAT WHEAT IN VAIN.”
Nature heals me. When it is hardest for me, I go out into the loudest downpours, when the thunder rolls and lightning strikes nearby. I feel as though I am being purified. In the army, a field of sunflowers grew next to our unit. One day, I just walked out and fell into those flowers. God, how good it felt. Sunflowers are my favorite.
My grandmother taught me: you won’t take any material thing to the other world. You will only take the spiritual essence you have invested in people. I dream of a small house in the Carpathians, planting sunflowers all around it, baking bread with seeds, and offering it to everyone I meet. Take care of each other. Value every moment. You don’t know if you will have the chance to hug again. We are each other’s energy, warmth, and light. Let us fill the world with light.
Project: Healing Land.Voices Voice: Marina Location: Pirogovo, Kyiv, Ukraine