Independence Monument is shown in Kyiv in February 2023, one year after the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion. (c. Martin Kuz)
I posted this short tribute on another site last Thanksgiving. What follows is a slightly updated version.
On this Thanksgiving, I want to offer my heartfelt gratitude to four Ukrainians for their boundless generosity: my cousin Iryna and her husband Myhajlo, and my friend Andriy and his wife Olena.
Iryna and Myhajlo introduced me to Andriy and Olena on my first visit to Ukraine in 2014, and since the start of Russia’s full-scale war in early 2022, the four of them have aided me in innumerable ways as I’ve tried to share stories from across the country. They’ve provided shelter, food, transportation and translation help. They’ve taught me the rich history of Lviv, the western city where they live and where my late father was born and grew up. Above all else, they’ve offered camaraderie and kinship while deepening my curiosity about their vibrant, valiant homeland.
There are many stories that could illustrate their individual and collective kindness. Here is one.
When Russia’s invasion began, I found myself in Kyiv. I had arrived in Ukraine two weeks earlier aware that missiles could start falling at any moment. I was working alone and unsure of my next move. At that early stage, as booming artillery battles on the city’s outskirts punctuated the constant wailing of air raid sirens, nobody knew the strength of Russia’s or Ukraine’s military.
Would the capital fall? Would enemy tanks soon rumble down Khreshchatyk Street past the Maidan? That was where, 11 years ago this month, a grassroots revolution ignited that months later toppled the country’s Kremlin puppet president.
Lacking logistical support and security, and with banks closed and ATMs empty, I had few options. Staying in Kyiv much longer seemed both unrealistic and unwise. But where to go? I contacted Andriy, who immediately told me I could come to Lviv. He would give me a place to stay until I figured out a plan.
When I arrived by train a couple of days later, I discovered that he and Olena had already taken in a father and his young daughter. Andriy had never met the man. But when an acquaintance called to ask Andriy if he could accommodate the pair, he and Olena showed no hesitation.
That wasn’t all. When my friend Yuliya fled Kyiv with her elderly mother and a friend and needed a place to stay, Andriy and Olena welcomed them, too. There were no questions. “They would do the same for us,” Andriy said later. “Anybody would do it.” I replied with a smile and a small correction. “Anybody in Ukraine.”
Since then, as I’ve continued reporting on the war, Andriy and Olena, like Iryna and Myhajlo, have always opened their doors — to their homes, to their hearts — without hesitation or questions. Their example reveals the vast capacity of the Ukrainian spirit that has enabled the country to withstand more than 1,000 days of war.
So today I say thank you to four ordinary Ukrainians for their extraordinary altruism. Their humanity offers a lesson in humility, and it is my ardent hope that soon they and their compatriots will again know peace — a peace that preserves their brave nation’s democracy, if not every inch of its territory, and that one day leads to true, lasting freedom from Russia.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Etc.
— For those who saw “20 Days in Mariupol,” which won best documentary at this year’s Oscars, The New York Times profiles the Ukrainian police officer who is an important figure in the film — and one of the primary reasons it exists. (Gift article.) Volodymyr Nikulin served as a self-assigned escort for the three Associated Press journalists who captured the harrowing footage of Russia’s siege of the southern port city at the start of the invasion. He later helped the trio escape, smuggling them and their film past 15 Russian checkpoints. Spoiler alert: He is still in Ukraine helping people.
— Thank you for reading. Please share Reporting on Ukraine with anyone you know with an interest in the country, and if you’re a free subscriber and you like what you see here, I hope you’ll consider upgrading to paid. You can also visit this page to support my self-funded reporting. Thank you.
What a read, Martin. Happy thanksgiving to you and all you are thankful for.