Can you help my friend, please? She is 32 weeks pregnant.
The text came in mid-morning. I said I’d look into it.
Mom, husband, 10-year-old, and baby on the way. Afraid of the encroaching war, they gambled their money on tickets to Canada. I thought of my own daughter-in-law, happily registering for an upcoming baby shower. I took the text into Ric’s office to show him and slumped onto his couch.
“How can this be happening? And what do I do? They’ll be here in two weeks! Do we make room for them here?’
“Take a breath,” Ric advised.
I did, then set out to work. Interviewed the Mom about their work experience, their needs, and all the other standard questions we ask Ukrainians hoping for help. Then I asked her to send me photos.
How much can you ask of people, and for how long? I carefully crafted my request before posting the photo of the couple, her swelling belly lovingly cupped. This family will need support for sometime.
Within 10 minutes of posting, my phone began to ping with messages. Someone else was calling. Three simultaneous offers for housing, but it was the fourth offer that caught in my throat: a doctor writing to say she would care for Mom and child, find them a house and a job for the Dad. She also spoke Ukrainian. I connected her with the young mom and stepped out of the conversation (couldn’t understand it anyway).
The next morning I awoke to another text:
That was fast. How can I ever thank you?
Well, as a Grandma, I replied, I’d love to be able to hold the baby.
Not even a question 💕
Miracles like this are happening every day. I am so grateful to have been swept up in this opportunity to help others. If I am absence from here, know that it is an illusion. I am actually very much alive.
(Image my own)