Financial Aid to The Displaced

CFR volunteers, on a relief mission to Ukraine’s Kharkiv region, encountered the harsh realities of war firsthand. While meeting IDPs and documenting their stories among the ruins, they crossed paths with an elderly woman from Petropavlivka—a village devastated by relentless shelling. Her weathered face, framed by a white beanie, and her winter coat zipped tightly against the cold, reflected the resilience and gravity of her journey. Her story carried a profound weight that left an indelible mark on all who listened.

She began with the plain facts, “No, we did not leave right away! We were under occupation for seven months. Our village - Petropavlivka - is almost gone. All houses are destroyed. It all got swept away...” The cadence of her voice held a rhythm of both disbelief and acceptance. “And Kupiansk,” she continued, “is still holding on somehow.”

The first day of invasion etched itself into her memory. “I was sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee early,” she told us, her hands unconsciously mimicking the hold of a mug. “Then there was this shaking, the ground shook. I thought it was an earthquake.” But the reality was much grimmer—a rocket, close enough to shake the sturdy kitchen window, soared by. “It flew towards Izium. It came from Russia,” she explained, “from the Belgorod region, only 40 kilometers away.”

Her recollection grew intense as she recounted the conversation with her son. “I grabbed the phone, screaming, ‘Son, it’s war!’” Her voice dropped to mimic his sleepy confusion, “Mother, why are you shouting like that? We’re all still asleep.” Her reply to him was both a command and a plea: “Son, the war has started. Run away somewhere.” And with that, she shook her household awake into a new reality.

She narrated the surreal arrival of the tanks, “They positioned the tanks around the forest edge, all around. The Russians came in right away. Right away.There was no time at all. Oh, our dear people! It was just unbearable…”

The farm, a mere 500 meters from her house, became a stage for cruelty. “Those damn Russians,” she said, her voice tinged with anger, “starved the cattle. For days they didn’t give us water or food.” The soldiers used starvation to bend the villagers to their will, a tactic that was as much psychological as it was physical.

Seeking shelter, her family divided—some family members went to the woods, some to another village: “I don't know how they [Russians] didn't get to us! Our bridge was destroyed, we were trapped! Can’t go anywhere! So we ended up sitting in the woods. For three weeks. Until our boys arrived, then we returned to our village…”

Her narrative led us through a mix of hope and despair. "We thought it was the end of the war," she confessed. However, returning to their village wasn't the homecoming they had hoped for; it was a stark confrontation with destruction. "There was nothing left of the village! Destroyed Russian machinery was everywhere. Dead cattle lay on the roads. Pigs had ravaged the farm and were eating the corpses." The image she painted of abandoned and fallen cattle being consumed by pigs was just heart-wrenching.

Her questions were rhetorical, the whys echoing in the silence that followed. “Why did they do this to us? What for?” she asked, her gaze distant.

Her story—painfully authentic, stark in detail, and unwavering in its recounting—left the team in silence. As we registered her for financial assistance, it was clear that what we offered paled in comparison to what she, and Petropavlivka, had given us. A narrative of the unyielding human spirit.

"It felt like the share of widows during the last shift was 10 times higher than in the previous ones!" Zhenya, our Ukraine Director of Operations, told us during a recent call about Cash for Refugees' latest trip to the Kharkiv region. "We did not expect this!"

All of us — CFR volunteers who’ve been to Ukraine during the war — know that the problem is staggering. Even though we don't know the exact number of women who have become widows because of this war.

Every day of our work with IDPs, we hear stories from these women - stories of unimaginable grief, of struggling to go on after losing their partners. Sometimes they tell us about the gut-punch of realizing their love will never walk through the door again, about the emptiness of a bed half-filled, about the pain of seeing their children cry for a father who can't come home. Some of these women are very young, in their early 20s. Others are older, having spent their entire lives with a husband who is now gone. It's a burden no one should have to carry.

Yet when we meet these women, we're struck by their resilience. They carry themselves with a quiet strength. A determination to keep going despite the odds. And when you talk to them, you quickly realize they are the pillars holding up their families and communities.

They get up each morning and face the day, no matter how hard it is. They are both mother and father to their children now, taking on both roles with a fierce love and dedication. They do whatever it takes to give their kids a chance at a better future. And they don't do it alone. They lean on each other, support each other, create a sisterhood forged in shared loss and shared hope. These women are the heart and soul of Ukraine, the ones who will rebuild their nation one family at a time. And they desperately need our continued support to do it.

P.S. Our gratitude goes to each donor as well as the BlueCheck Foundation for supporting our work with widows.

While distributing funds to refugees in Ukraine, CFR team met a woman who caught our attention. She looked worn out, with sadness and a bit of fear in her eyes, but also a kind of quiet strength. We wanted to hear her story, to understand what she had been through, so we gently asked her to share her experiences with us.

Here is what she shared:

“In the early days of the war, my family and I fled to Western Ukraine, seeking safety from the turmoil back home in the Kyiv region. We lived there, holding onto a thread of inormalcy, and even considered returning home in the summer of 2022. But our plans were upended when my husband was called to serve in the army. He was sent to the UK for a month of training before returning to Ukraine, ready to serve his country.

As winter set in, in January 2023, my husband was deployed to Soledar, a place marked by the war. It was there that we lost contact with him. For a month, we lived in a limbo of hope and fear, not knowing his fate. During this agonizing time, life took an unexpected turn – I discovered I was pregnant. Our daughter, Sophie, was born into a world already reshaped by her father's absence.

Amidst this turmoil, we tried to fulfill my husband's wish for us to seek a safer life in Germany. But as we navigated this new path, the devastating news of his disappearance reached us. My children, overwhelmed by grief and the strangeness of a new land, struggled to cope. We realized we needed to return to Ukraine – to reconnect with our roots and to mourn their father. Now we live here…”

Liubov called them "slugs." Those soldiers who came and destroyed her land. But they couldn't break her heart or the hearts of her fellow Ukrainians.

"We didn't bend. We didn't give up," she said with fierce pride.

Living under Russian occupation was hard. Liubov watched her beautiful village in Kherson suffer. But she held on, thinking of her son fighting on the front lines.

Then, one day, freedom! Ukrainian soldiers came and drove the "slugs" away. Liubov's joy knew no bounds. She made dumplings and pies. Her hands shaped love into every bite. She served the soldiers, thanking them with smiles and food.

Today, her son's birthday, she looks out her window. She makes a simple wish: "I want to see him again, healthy and alive."

Her village is healing. Liubov's dumplings are a symbol of hope, of a land that won't be broken. Like Liubov, CFR helps keep that hope alive.

During one of our latest shifts to Kherson Oblast, our CFR team met an extraordinary woman - Victoria. She lives in a small town of Bila Krynytsia. She's a single mother of four young girls: Oleksandra, 14, Uliana, 11, Sophia, 5, and Milenka, just 3. Victoria also lives with a disability. Her story is one of strength, resilience, and an unyielding will to rebuild and recover.

Her home has been hit not once, but twice by Russian rockets. The damage is quite extensive - one wall of their house has been severely impacted and windows were shattered. As if that wasn't enough, Russian soldiers raided her home, rifling through their belongings, stealing whatever they could find. Even the girls' pillows and blankets were taken!

In the face of these hardships, this courageous mother isn't giving up. Instead, she's starting anew. And she's not alone. With CFR’s help she's now beginning to rebuild their home and replace the essentials for her children.

We've witnessed two months of occupation fled in April when Russian invaders settled next to our house. Three times they got into our house, last time accounting for 60 people. My husband's brother has been in the Ukrainian military since 2014: certainly, Russians got to know about it and came to seek him for us. During raids, they looked everywhere, turned over all the furniture, took the equipment from the garage, and smashed everything they couldn't take with them. They also broke baby beds and took the mattresses. That was the moment I decided to flee with my children to Kryvyi Rih for the sake of their safety. For the aid received from CashForRefugees and The 1k project, we purchased three windows and ordered a new double bed for the kids. We are planning to return to Velyka Oleksandrivka, but before making our house suitable for living we stay in Kryvyi Rih. We are grateful to the volunteers and donors for this help! May God bless and save you.

My village is completely demolished. Firstly, the Russian military shelled it with Hrads (artillery) and rockets and then burned it down with inflammatory bombs (akin to phosphor bombs). I had to flee… In the Volyn region, I’m being supported and I hope, that this support will continue since my whole property can now fit in two handbags of stuff. I’d like to buy a fridge, since without it all the food spoils, a washing machine, a bed (currently I sleep on a cot) and bedclothes to sleep well. That’s the first priority. Clothes and shoes go afterwards. I am not likely to return to my village since it simply doesn’t exist anymore. I just don’t know, how to live and where to get money for the purchase of a new accommodation. I am very grateful to the residents of the USA, who help us. I’d like to wish them all robust health and a peaceful sky over their heads because it’s the most important in life. They fulfill an important mission of helping the people and I’m sure that God sees it. I believe, that reciprocally they will get what they need in life since during such hard times for us they responded to our grief.

Throughout the occupation of the Kherson region, we've been to Kryvyi Rih, since we had evacuated at the very beginning of the full-scale Russian invasion. After the liberation, having returned, we saw a trace of a bombshell near the house, which had broken all the windows. Besides, the Russians had taken out the doors from our house, cut all the wires, and stolen everything they could take away. All the food stocks and seaming had vanished - they had eaten everything. We are planning to spend the CashForRefugees and The 1k project aid for the repair of what Russians did to my house so that we could live here, in our home village. Very grateful for the help during such a hard time!

We endured the warfare life up until August, then fled and returned only in October, after the partial liberation of the Kherson region. Shostakove village was in a grey zone this whole time, except for March when Russians raided through. Conversely, after the frontline stabilization, they deprived us of the connection with the world, blowing all the bridges up. Our village was in plain sight: we were shelled by mortars and rockets. Can't say, what hasn't flown at us... We will spend the received aid on house repair, what else we can spend it on... We had a direct hit in the yard, all the windows were shattered. Thank you so much for this support!

Me, my husband and my children lived two months of occupation. Afterward, our family fled, because there was no more ability to stay... After the liberation, we visited our house and saw that it had been demolished. We apprehend, that in the forthcoming future we have no place to live there *in our home village*. The house is not to be repaired at all, there were two direct hits. I've also counted around thirty hits in the vegetable garden behind the house. Currently, we live in the Mykolaiv region, as temporarily displaced people. Having received financial aid, we bought some everyday things for the children and materials to repair the house we now live in. A part of the sum we keep for the future: we wish to buy a house here, in the Mykolaiv region. Thank you a lot! A part of this aid will be embedded in our future house, so it will stay as a memorial of all concerned people, who helped us. We will remember and be grateful!

Kherson was occupied by Russian soldiers on the third day of the war. As a result of continuous shelling the energy system was damaged, therefore the light started disappearing at once. The city suffered a deficit of goods, while those in stock rose in price three times. Due to the absence of income, our family faced hard times. We wanted to leave the town and had two options: safely go out by Russian buses in an unknown direction or leave by ourselves in Ukraine-controlled territory. The second option implied the threat of being shot by Russian soldiers, who were prohibited to leave the town. We’ve chosen the second one. Now we are living in a village in the west of Ukraine. It’s extremely difficult to find a job here, so we struggle with money. We need it to purchase clothes for children, medicine, and food. I’d like to thank the residents of the USA and all the concerned for their support, it’s very important to us. Perhaps, for some of them to donate even one dollar is not too much, but for us, it’s an opportunity to buy a loaf of bread. Thank you.

Our family has lived a month of occupation: for two weeks, we've been permanently sitting in a cellar with children. It was petrifying, considering that the youngest baby wasn't even 2 years old then. We decided to flee from this horror. However, right after the village liberation we returned, because we wanted to be at home. With the aid received we managed to install windows, which had been shattered due to shelling, and purchase a new door, which orcs (Russians) had taken out for their blindages. Also, we wish to buy everything needed for our own vegetable garden for kids to have something to eat. We plan to change the roof and buy at least some used slate. All in all, plentiful, we have a lot to do... Very grateful to CashForRefugees and The 1k project funds for such help!

We left the occupied Kherson region on 6th April, when the Russians began increasing their terror. There were no more crossing points on the frontline at that moment, so we had to leave through orcs (the Russian territory). Currently, we are in Kryvyi Rih, simultaneously repairing our house in our home village to return permanently as soon as possible. For received aid, we have already installed windows in our house and ordered the doors. There was a direct hit in the next house, so everything was damaged: we have already fixed the roof by ourselves and with our own resources. Thank you so much for such a contribution, and such help!

I am a mother of eight. At the beginning of the Russian occupation, I took my children and fled to Kryvyi Rih, while my husband and older son stayed in the village due to the inability to leave. During the occupation, my house in Mala Oleksandrivka was hit by a direct missile strike. Husband and son miraculously lived - by accident they were in a nearby house, which their neighbors, who had fled, asked them to look after. After Mala Oleksandrivka's liberation and the end of hostilities in that region due to the frontline movement, I and my children returned. Currently, our family lives in an apartment of our acquaintances in Mala Oleksandrivka, the next street to our destroyed house. According to the expert report, the house was announced as unsuitable to live in or to repair. I accumulate money to purchase a house for my children in the future so that they have their own home. A significant part of my aid is from the fund I collect for the house purchase, while some money is used for utilities: light and gas. I am immensely grateful to CashForRefugees and The 1k project for the aid given. We hope for the forthcoming end of the war so that my family can live with no fear of new hardships, just focusing on the search for our new house.

Throughout the whole occupation of the Kherson region, we've sat in Piatykhatky. When *the Russians* started bombing so massively that we couldn't endure anymore, we decided to go to Velyka Oleksandrivka, 35 km away. With regards to financial aid... We have great plans: to buy a house in Velyka Oleksandrivka. My house in Piatykhatky is damaged and mined, therefore we cannot live there.

On 24th February at 8 am, Russian armor was already at *Kakhovka* hydroelectric power station. Ever since our town lives in permanent terror and fear. I've lived in occupation for 4 months and I have witnessed people being kidnapped, and houses being robbed. This whole time I've been selling bunches of herbs, accumulating money for escape. With my children's help, I managed to collect 37,000 UAH for the transfer from Nova Kakhovka to Zaporizhzhia — I've taken 3 people with me. When I reached the territory under the control of Ukrainian authorities, I couldn't speak for 3 more weeks - I wanted to cry because of what happened and because of the sincere attitude of the volunteers towards us. Thanks to our people and people from all over the world for helping Ukraine. You go to receive humanitarian aid, you feel gratefulness - but simultaneously you feel such an embarrassment... Unconsciously you ask yourself, how did it happen, how did we let the invader get it... In part, the world is also responsible for this, since it closed its eyes to Russian crimes committed in Georgia in 2008. We don't have to die! We have to live and fight, we have to be strong, and invincible. Regardless of physical decay, I feel a great power of spirit, inherent to every Ukrainian. Thank you! Glory to Ukraine!