Today, Saint Joseph's Day, started out as a wonderful day of celebration, but as the day continued, we are brought back very quickly to the harsh realities of war. We are in the midst of a lot of comings and goings; most of the farewells are happy ones because the families knowing their hosts are less anxious about their next step. I am especially sorry to say goodbye to 10-year-old Dania who spoke English very well and could translate for me.  

One family with a small baby received a call that their friend retracted their invitation and now they had nowhere to go.  Tears filled their eyes and disappointment lined their faces.  Now, they struggle with the excruciating decision to either go to an unknown placement in Germany or return to Ukraine.  Their fear is palpable, and words flew back and forth among them.  They only have a few moments because the bus will be leaving soon.  I don't know how, but they make their decision: they choose Germany and we pray that their placement will be a safe one.  I spoke with one of the supervisors who spoke English and there's a great concern about human trafficking once the families leave for their destinations.

Yesterday, the family who were very poor (I had mentioned them in an earlier blog) still had nowhere to go. When there seemed to be no options, the Sisters offered one of their convents to the family where the Sisters selflessly moved into another one to make room. These Sisters here have a tremendous heart as well as boundless energy.  I feel like an old lady going up the stairs next to even their elders since they race past me.  

Tonight, a policeman at the train station shook his head as he told Sister Christina that the number of families returning to Ukraine is increasing.  This news breaks our hearts as we continue to hear the reports of the Russian missile bombardment moving into the central part of the Ukraine. I wondered why they were risking a return. One woman wanted to stand by her fiancee and if she were to die, she wanted to die on her own motherland.  Others just came to place their children for safekeeping with family or friends.  Some return because they expect more than a room with cots. For many, they were unable to withdraw finances from banks and so desperately need a job to provide for their families. Hoping for more opportunities, they take trains and buses to large cities like Warsaw and Krakow and we hope that this will not be just an empty promise.  Many Ukrainians returning are those who are poor because they do not have the same contacts, financial resource or direction.  

You may remember that I mentioned Sister Christina taught in Ukraine for about 20 years and was in Poland on retreat when the war broke out.  She lived with one sister in central Ukraine.  This afternoon, the Sister sent her a photo showing the visibility of a missile from their convent and the Sister chooses bravely to remain as a presence with her people. Her pain and worry were etched clearly on Sister Christina's face as her eyes filled up with tears.  

After these past few days, it dawned on me that I have never experienced war.  I've read accounts, watched movies, marched in peace rallies and prayed for peace for countries engaged in conflict. I have never spent enough hours to contemplate the extent of its impact.  The people I see have been uprooted from their land which they love and gave them their sense of purpose and identity and pride. Families torn apart as elders, husbands and friends are left behind.  They have done nothing to cause this aggression except to desire the right to determine their government and economy and now, like sacrificial lambs, they are being offered as sacrifice.  

Now, I echo the questions I have heard uttered in quiet whispers as if speaking their fears aloud would make them too real.  What will these good people have when they return?  Who will help them to rebuild?  Will it be us?  What of the earth itself?  Will it also heal?  I don't know where this will lead in my life, but the suffering I have witnessed is carved into my heart and I will never forget what I have seen.   

We try to add lightness to our day so that we are not brought down by sadness.  Yesterday, at the noon meal, the Sisters asked why I wasn't taking one of the delicious desserts.  In an abashed manner, I said:  Sisters, I have a confession to make.  One of the young sisters responded rather quickly and asked if I needed a priest.  I said no, I want to make a confession to the Sisters.  As I looked around at the startled faces, I admitted that I had stopped at a bakery on my return back to the convent and had a most delicious Paczki (donut), and it was big.  After much laughter, the Sisters offered me a cup of tea and I had to further confess that I had a chai latte, too.  This morning, Sister Agnes drove me to the bakery, and I bought paczki for all the Sisters to enjoy. I called them Saint Joseph cakes. 

Continue to pray for the courage and endurance of these good people as they choose life for their children and themselves!

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