Sirens, Survival, and the Power of Your Support

This past Tuesday, during our regular Zoom check-in with Ella, our Director in Ukraine, and Galina, our translator, the reality of daily life under siege became painfully clear. Galina’s screen kept flashing with air raid alerts, sirens blaring in the background. As we ended the call, the sirens began in Ella’s region. This is the new normal: alerts sounding day and night, making deep, consistent sleep almost impossible.

The drone and missile attacks have intensified. Every day, the reports say the same thing: This was the worst attack yet. Apartment buildings, schools, and hospitals are being deliberately targeted. It’s hard not to see this as an effort to wear down the resilience of the Ukrainian people.

Yesterday morning, I woke up—as I have every morning since the war began—immediately checking my phone to make sure our team and communities are safe. News of a rough night in Dnipro popped up first, then a flood of voice messages from Ella in our WhatsApp group for care coordinators. Ten messages. Ella never sends voice messages. My heart dropped.

Text messages auto-translate. Voice messages don’t. It was 5:30 a.m.—too early to reach our board members who speak Ukrainian. So I forwarded them all to Galina. She was driving but promised to call me as soon as she pulled over. When she did, I finally exhaled. The messages were Ella checking in on our coordinators in the directly hit areas and giving instructions for distributing the next shipment of summer survival kits going out Friday.

I cried tears of relief.

This is the tension we live with. The fear, the vigilance, the urgency—it’s been with us since February 2022, and it’s only growing. Tighter. Heavier. Constant.

And yet, in the middle of this, you, our donors, are making a difference. While missiles fall, your compassion rises.

The summer survival kits you made possible through your generosity are literal lifelines. Each kit includes a lightweight sleeping bag, a sleeping pad, a USB-powered fan with light, and an emergency whistle. I’ve heard from several elders that the whistle brings them the greatest comfort. It might seem primitive—but for someone with limited mobility or technology, trapped under rubble or lost in chaos, it’s a signal for help. In a world where billionaires are taking joyrides into space, this simple whistle could save a life.

You are providing more than supplies. You are offering Safety, Respite. Dignity. And yes—hope.

As Russia escalates its campaign of fear, you elevate hope.

Last week’s Torah portion, Parshat Balak, reminds us that even in the darkest moments—when others seek to curse or destroy—there is the potential to turn harm into blessing. Just as Balaam’s curses were transformed into words of blessing for the Israelites, your generosity is transforming fear into safety, despair into dignity.

You are proving that even in the midst of war, we can choose compassion. While so many are turning away from the war in Ukraine, we can respond to terror not with indifference, but with fierce love.

Thank you for being a blessing in a time of crisis.

To all our supporters, thank you for being on the side of compassion, humanity, and survival.