Helpless, anxious, frustrated.

Governments fall, crowds surge, gunshots fired.

Where will they go? What will become of them?

The first to escape have arrived.

They’re in a hotel, hidden from view.

Husband goes to visit, to see what we can do.

There’s talk of playgroups, buddy systems, classes…

But there’s tension in the ranks

And they’re unsure how to bypass it.

And then quickly the focus changes,

Another war breaks out.

Millions flee across the continent ;

Where can they be housed?

“I’d open my home if I had to!”

Thousands speak and are heard.

We’ve no hotels and no council houses left,

And so they take us at our word.

“If you can make a personal connection

With anyone from Ukraine,

They can come and live at your house…

All you need is a name. ”

A name, a name … what’s in a name?

I walk the canal and pray.

“Please connect us with someone- perhaps a mother and child?- who would appreciate our level of ‘craze’!'”

That week we make a connection;

A friend of a Ukrainian neighbour.

A Pharmacist with a three year old son;

We fill out the forms and pray for favour.

Whilst waiting we prepare;

What comforts might they need?

I have a list of necessities

And a couple of luxuries.

Individually, the cost is small,

But collectively, too big.

I am encouraged to ask friends and family

If they would like to help us give?

Soon enough we have more than we need-

A little from here and a lot from there.

An outpouring of generosity,

As even ‘friends of friends’ unite to share.

For in all the horror of greed-driven sin,

Sometimes it is clearest to see;

Reflected in the pools of humanity’s worst,

The shining heart of all we could be.

(To be continued.)