As a Ukrainian American, I thank you all. . . [View all]

[Paula Sims]

Honestly, I don't know how to begin sharing what's in my heart. Well. . . let's start with a deep "thank you".

Thank you for remembering Ukraine. Thank you for caring. Thank you for your in-depth analysis. Everything has kept me and others going, especially since we have faced decades of hearing "That's Russia, right?" We Ukrainians are a kind, jovial, stubborn group with a dark sense of humor. But it's caring and not being forgotten that keeps us going, answers the question: Why bother? Who cares?

You see, even though my brother and I were fortunate enough to be born in the US, it was only because my parent were forced to flee Ukraine in the early 1940s. My Mother was 10 when Soviet solders came knocking on her parent's door, telling them that the next day, they will be transported to Siberia. All of them: my Mother (10 years old at the time), her 8 year old brother, and her parents, in their late 20's/early 30's. Their crime? They owned land. A whole acre (or probably less). That night, the 4 of them left, on foot, west, though Slovakia, Poland, Czech republic, Hungary, and finally, 10 years later, in a DP camp in Germany. Mother always cried when she spoke of those days. G-d knows what horrors a 10 year old child faced.

Meanwhile, about 200 miles north, around the same time, other soldiers came to my Father's house, looking for him and his family. These soldiers weren't so kind. My Father (around 21 at the time) was out with friends for a few days, so they took his two brothers (about 25 years old) and shot them in front of their parents' home. And left them for "others to sweep up the garbage". Then they went to my aunt's home (she was about 22 years old), took her, her husband, and their 3 children to Siberia for 25 years' hard labor. Their "crime"? They had university educations and were professors in literature, history, and math. When my Father came home, he was told what happened, and he and his two friends packed up and left to lands west. All on foot.

Yes, my parents faced horrors of war but also the kindness of strangers. Just as many stories of joy and laughter were told as stories of terror and horror. My Father also had a true visitation from the Virgin Mary who showed him and his friends the only passage through the mountain. But through it all my Parents impressed one thing on me: Do not forget who you are & where you came from, and be prepared for anything by learning about everything you can (including automotive, woodworking, cooking, sewing -- you never know.)

Our Parents are gone now but my Brother and I have family back in Ukraine, fighting for their land, their freedom. They remember what their families went though and their cry is "Never Again".

So know, that your posts, your support, your interest all bring me and others with similar stories comfort that someone out there cares. We, as a nation, haven't been dismissed.

Again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart

Paula