Who we help in Ukraine: three displaced families tell their stories

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David Hathaway’s Ministry, working with Philadelphia Church Kyiv, has been supporting displaced persons since the war began in east Ukraine, early 2014. Over 20,000 have died and over 2 million have been internally displaced. The front line is approximately 280 miles in length. The conflict in eastern Ukraine has transitioned to a stalemate after it first erupted, but shelling and skirmishes still occur regularly, with frequent escalations in violence. The situation remains unresolved.


My name is Violetta Valerievna. I was born on July 26, 1974. At the time of the beginning of the war, I lived in the city of Lugansk with my family: my husband, a seventeen-year-old older son, who graduated from Foreign Languages College, and two and a half years old younger son.

On April 6, 2014, the Security Service of Ukraine building in Lugansk was seized by separatists. At that time, we were at home and we didn’t know anything about it, we didn’t even suspect. The older son was in the college, the younger one - at home. Only in the evening we found out about what happened. It became dangerous in the city. But life was going on as usual.

On June 2, all the graduates of schools and colleges were at their proms. All restaurants were occupied. The children were celebrating. Everything was fine. Suddenly, at four o'clock in the morning, we have heard explosions. At first, I thought it was thunder, but my husband said those were bombs. We ran out to the street, and there the earth was shaking. A lot of people were in pajamas, dressing gowns. There was panic. It is impossible to understand in which part of the city the bombs were exploding. And at that time our children were at the prom. All the parents were very concerned and started calling each other. It turned out that the separatists were attacking the border control unit. This was the beginning of the war. The parents got into their cars and brought the children home. That fight lasted two days. In the afternoon there was a military plane in the city center and an explosion there.

We did not quite understand what was happening and we hoped that the old life would return. But at night there was constant shelling. While driving through the city, we saw armed men, barricades, sandbags in the windows of buildings.

An information vacuum set in: all Ukrainian channels were turned off, nothing was explained to us. The city was filled with rumors. It became dangerous in the city. The lights were turned off at night. We were not able to sleep at night.

I will never forget how in June my husband put me with my children on a train and sent me to my cousin in Kyiv. The youngest son had a favorite toy, a rabbit, which we forgot at home. My husband was on the platform, we were on the train and we could hear explosions around us. All people were on their phones, crying. The child cried until morning for dad and the rabbit. It was terrible. We stayed with my cousin for 10 days and came back, as everything seemed to have calmed down. But these are my worst memories.

Our neighbors had a huge pile of sand in their yard, which was hit by several shells one night, but thank God they did not explode. This was the last straw that pushed us to leave our hometown. It was on July 7th. We got into the car and drove to Shchastya, which is located 20 kilometers from Lugansk and at that time it was already recaptured back by Ukrainian forces. There we lived in a friend’s apartment for three weeks, and then came to Kyiv to my cousin. There was nowhere else to go. Living conditions were terrible. I had to spend whole days with the child on the street, where he had to eat and take naps on a bench. But I said that it is better to be in Kyiv on a bench, than in Lugansk under bombs.

In 2015 we found out about Philadelphia Church from other internally displaced people. We began to visit this church and were blessed by many good things. Everything here is filled with goodness. The church does a great job and helps people not only materially, but also spiritually.


My name is Larysa Stepura. I was born on April 30, 1952 in the Donetsk region, in the city of Toretsk (former Dzerzhinsk). I lived there all my life. My daughter, Tatiana, graduated from the University in Donetsk, got married and we bought her an apartment in Gorlovka. We renovated the apartment, furnished it, and it turned out very cozy. That's where her son was born. When the child was two years old, she got a job as an administrator at Goodwine store in Donetsk. Since my daughter had to stay at work late, we had to rent an apartment in Donetsk. I stayed with her and helped her to raise my grandson. The situation in the city was criminogenic: bandit groups had constant clashes.

 After some time, the child began to attend kindergarten. My daughter bought me a stall at the market, and I began to have a small business there. The market was located near the airport. One day in June, while working at the market, my coworkers and I have heard a loud hum and we saw a lot of planes flying, buzzing loudly and shooting some rockets (those were heat traps). Then we heard explosions. It was very scary. We hid in the barn. People ran from the station and shouted that some had been killed. Then the shooting started. Later we found out that Metro Store had been blown up, the airport and the nearby village had been bombed.

For a short period of time we left for Crimea. And when we returned, the train was under fire. We were lying on the floor of the train, and the bullets pierced right through it. Upon arrival home, the child got high fever - up to 40 degrees. I called for an ambulance, but they refused to come because of shooting, and I had to carry the child in my arms to the hospital. Bullets whistled around and my grandson was really scared and cried. This is how I was able to save my grandson. But I will never forget this horror.

We left for Kyiv. The daughter rented a very small apartment, where even there were no dishes. Obviously, we couldn't bring anything with us and turned for help a special center, where they helped the displaced people. There we met people who told us about Philadelphia Church. I came to the church with my grandson. I did not expect to see such a warm welcome. It was early 2015.

First, we turned to the church for humanitarian aid, and later we started attending a home group. At the age of 64, I began to study the Bible. I was very interested in this. I wish it could happen to me earlier. Later I started attending services, met many new people from the church and made friends with many of them. During all this time up to lockdown I participated in various programs to help mothers with children who were in a difficult situation. We were preparing food for them. We also participated in church services. As I get to know God, now I have Someone to rely on, Someone to council with, Someone whom I can ask for help and pray to. I try to evangelize, telling people about God.


My name is Tatiana Ivanovna. I am from the city of Alchevsk, Lugansk region. I was born in May, 1961. In 2013, I moved to Lugansk, rented a pavilion and was engaged in trade, selling food products. Before the outbreak of war, I lived very well. I had my own business.

In April 2014, the first planes began to fly over the Regional Administration building. There was a very strong hum around. I worked not far from there, and out of fear and misunderstanding of what was really happening I wanted to lie down on the floor and just dissolve. Later we learned from the news that these were first separatists’ attempts to seize the regional administration.

I moved back to my hometown of Alchevsk but continued to work in Lugansk. Every day I went to work by an electric train. I had to work until lunchtime, because at 12 o'clock the shelling began. Many people had no money, and I lent food to many of them. This is how I worked until June 20, 2014.

At this time, my youngest grandson was 5 months old, and the oldest was 1 year and 4 months old. We were not planning to leave. We lived on the 9th floor and, going out to the balcony, I saw a column of tanks moving from Lugansk to Debaltseve. I was in panic and fear. A little later, Alchevsk was also captured by separatists. By the beginning of July, there was shortage of groceries in stores, and the running water was no longer chlorinated. In each apartment there were bags with some food and documents by the door so that you could quickly leave in case of bombing.

On July 24, Debaltsevo was bombed. Trains stopped running. Shelling began. Many Chechens have appeared in the city, who were not there before. People tried to go somewhere, but there was no transport. One of the buses to Berdyansk was fired upon. There was only an opportunity to leave for Russia, but we were afraid to go there, and later they stopped moving people there too.

On July 26, at night, shelling began, and checkpoints were set up around the city. It became impossible to leave the city. I received a phone call and was told that families with small children would be taken to Berdyansk. After some discussion, we decided that myself, my daughter and grandchildren should leave Alchevsk. Having taken some children's staff and documents, we got on the bus and took off. On the way, we saw shot cars with open doors. We were not allowed to talk on the phone. The bus was constantly stopped and examined by armed men. It was very scary. It was the road of eternity.

On September 1, 2014 we went from Berdyansk to Kiev. Friends advised us to settle in the town of Bila Tserkva. And so, we did. There I began to attend New Life Church, where I helped to prepare meals. In this church I was told about Philadelphia Church and about funds that help displaced people in Kyiv. We made trips to Kyiv to receive help there. But these trips took us a lot of time and finances. We had to sell everything we could sell. That's how we survived.

Then the pastor of New Life church in Bila Tserkva helped me get a job as an administrator in a hotel in Kyiv, where I worked for 5 years. My daughter and grandchildren lived in Bila Tserkva. All this time I attended Philadelphia Church.