HOSHIV, Ukraine (AP) – Beneath the ancient Carpathian beech forest, a peaceful monastery in the village of Hoshiv in western Ukraine has been turned into a giant playground for dozens of children who have lost their homes with their families because of war.
The Sisters of the Greek-Catholic Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family, 100 kilometers (60 miles) from Lviv, welcomed about 40 people who had fled fighting Russian forces in eastern and central Ukraine.
The sound of birds chirping and the sweet chirping of prayer comforted Rima Stryzhko, 59, who fled Kharkov. “It was as if the planes were flying in the middle of the house. “And you can hear the sound of the bombing,” he recalled. He is often in the back of cars when he buys bread or medicine.
“What we saw was a paradise (monastery).
The monastery itself is a symbol of stability, built after the independence of Ukraine in the early 1990s. The village’s former monastery was closed by Communist authorities before the area became part of the Soviet Union and the nuns were sent to Siberia.
“All our prayers today are for peace in Ukraine, for our soldiers, for the innocent people who have been killed and murdered,” said Dominika, the nun.
Before the war, 17 nuns lived quietly. In addition to religious duties and charitable activities, they planted mushrooms, prepared pasta and made icons for chapel decoration. Now they run away with small children, helping and advising mothers and preparing dozens of guests every day.
“Everything in the monastery is centered on prayer and order,” Sister Dominica explained. But when the Russian invasion began, they told local officials they could accommodate up to 50 refugees.
“We adapted the program of prayer and work for the people,” he said.
Many children now laughing and hugging the nuns came trauma.
“At first they were a bit restrained. This is a new place for them. “They come from cities where there is (target shooting), where there is always a siren (air strike),” he said.
But even in this peaceful environment, nuns continue to receive air strike alerts on their smartphones. They warned the remaining residents by ringing the monastery bells – a less traumatic sound than the loud sirens in the cities – and ran to the basement.
There the homemade chapel is decorated with a large cross made of a painting of Mary and the baby Jesus, with candles and branches. The basement also has a mattress, blankets and chairs. “The Prodigy” is written in chalk on one of the walls, a clear tribute to the British dance-electronic group.
But even without the mermaids, the kids enjoy the underground den.
“We were playing and reading prayers,” said Rostislav Borisenko, 10, who fled the siege of Mariupol with his mother. “It helps.”
Her mother is eagerly awaiting news about relatives and friends who have failed to escape Mariupol or have been evacuated to eastern regions controlled by Russian-backed separatists.
Thousands of miles from the front, the conversation at the table revolves mainly around war.
Before the families bake bread in the dining room, the nuns eat lunch separately in the library, with a picture of the Last Supper on a long table. Among them were 44 years old and Joseph, who was evacuated from a monastery in Kiev on the first day of the war.
“It’s hard to leave the place where you live,” he said. “Even if I can live here … my heart is there. And I can’t wait to come back ”.
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Associated Press photojournalist Nariman El-Mufti contributed to this report.
Source: Huffpost
