Schools reduced to piles of brick and cement; churches burned to the ground; apartment buildings with entire exterior walls missing; hospitals left in ruins. As of Sunday’s morning news programs, 24 attacks have been directed at medical facilities. What kind of person bombs schools or hospitals, maternity or otherwise? Subway stations have morphed into bomb shelters with individuals and families claiming space to eat, sleep, worship and survive.
Mothers clutching the hands of children holding favorite stuffed animals; older couples hanging on tightly to each other and a single suitcase, traversing a makeshift bridge; hundreds of Ukrainians packed on train platforms, hoping to board the next train.
Like many of you, I cannot erase from my mind these images of the war in Ukraine. And I do not want to erase them. They are images none of us should forget. This is what war looks like. Images from the last three weeks resemble pictures in history books of World War I and World War II. Is history repeating itself? This is madness.
As I write this piece, 2.5 million Ukrainians have left their homes and become refugees (that’s nearly equal to the number of Chicago residents); 1,500 Ukrainian civilians have lost their lives—men, women, children, young and old—more civilians than soldiers. Trenches dug serve as common graves for some. Russian casualties are high, but specific numbers unknown.
Trying to take my mind in a different direction, I decided to make a list of items I would pack in my single suitcase if I had to leave my home suddenly, not knowing where I was going, how long I’d be gone, or if I’d ever be back. It certainly wouldn’t be like packing for Spring Break in Florida or a trip to North Carolina for a wedding. I would be packing just that smallest piece of the set of luggage, carry-on size.
I would start with two changes of clothes (in addition to what I’d be wearing), but include extra underwear and socks and a second pair of shoes. My toiletries bag would suffer from major downsizing: no makeup, lotions, or cologne; but I’d add our small first aid kit. I’d pack a towel, washcloth, and small blanket. My medicines would absolutely make the trip, as would packages of jerky, dried fruits, nuts, and granola bars (snacks I already have on hand).
My list would include a small flashlight and extra batteries, some candles and matches, and my cell phone charger. For something to do I’d take one of my adult coloring books, colored pencils, and sharpener. Coloring calms me. I’d pack playing cards and dice games that take up little room in a suitcase. A large spiral notebook, my gratitude journal and pens would not be left behind. I would need to continue writing and being grateful.
Books would certainly make my list. A Bible would travel with me, but I’d have to decide which Bible—the one that goes with me to weekly Bible study, the one I keep in a zippered book cover with my devotional, or the one that rests on my nightstand. The big illustrated family Bible is out. Size matters when you’re worried about space, so I’ll pack the one in the zippered book cover. It’s small and contains a short concordance and maps that I often consult.
I would pack two of my favorite books: The Scarlet Letter and The Little Prince (an English and a French edition—they are small). I would include a book of poetry, probably the one currently on my nightstand, How to Love the World: Poems of Gratitude and Hope. Lastly in my traveling library, I’d add a book, a lengthy book I’ve not read in its entirety, even the abridged version—Les Miserables (in English, not French).
Even though I have thousands of pictures on my phone and in the Cloud, I know I’d take some photographs with me. They would be some of the old ones— pictures of life on our farm, family members long gone, captured memories of long-ago celebrations and vacations. And I’d sprinkle them throughout the pages of the Bible and the books traveling with me to give me pause when I reach them, providing some joy in remembering the past.
In any remaining nooks and crannies of that single suitcase, I would pack Ziplock bags of Java’s kibble. You know I’m not leaving without her.
Back to reality, back to the war in Ukraine. What does a mother traveling with two small children pack? Many mothers are carrying babes in arms. What besides diapers does she have room for in her suitcase?
While I have seen people sheltering and traveling with animals, I’ve not seen any with dogs as large as Java, our 100-pound chocolate lab. Medium-sized and small dogs and some cats have made appearances on news segments or Facebook posts, but reports of abandoned animals or dearly loved pets picked up by animal rescue organizations are frequent. Stories exist of owners of horses on the outskirts of large Ukrainian cities taking them into nearby woodlands and forests to set them free.
We can do something. We can be smart and pay attention to reputable news services and not listen to bloviating politicians and news outlets that seek only to support their politics or pocketbooks. We can refuse to spread the lies or the short-sighted political positions. The Ukrainians would say, “Tell the truth about why we were invaded and what’s happening and what it will mean if Ukraine falls.”
If we want to help monetarily, we must carefully research organizations claiming to aid victims of this war. Carefully research— because there are and will continue to be scammers seeking to make money on the suffering of others. And some organizations have so much overhead that very small portions of donations go to the actual victims.
Here’s the Thing: It doesn’t look like the war in Ukraine will end any time soon because the Ukrainians are fierce protectors of their homeland. They aren’t giving up. So there will be more images of people fleeing, buildings being destroyed, and death. If 2.5 million Ukrainians have left their homes in the first three weeks of this war (that’s more than a third of Indiana’s entire population), how many will have left in another three weeks? 3 months? If 1,500 Ukrainians have died by now, how will that number have increased in the weeks and months to come—especially if the nefarious Russian President leading the heinous attack on Ukraine resorts to biological or chemical warfare, or, God forbid, nuclear. This is madness.
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Editor’s Note: This is one of a series of articles written by a group of retired teachers — Ken Ballinger, Billy Kreigh, Marianne Darr-Norman, and Anna Spalding. Their intent is to spur discussions at the dinner table and elsewhere. You may also voice your thoughts and reactions via The News-Banner’s letters to editor.