A Blog of Flashbacks

Friends in Ukraine

March 2025

The tryzub is Ukrainian national coat of arms.

One of my sisters and I loved to travel, but we asked one another where would we go. On a count of 3-2-1, we both said Russia, probably a leftover of the Ukrainian child’s table in our childhood home. It was the Soviet Union we first visited in December 1987 and January 1988. Subsequently, sister Hannah had Ukrainians, foreign exchange students and teachers, live with her for a school year. She also had one or two international teaching jobs at a school in Ukraine. We visited there in 2007. Although she has died, we still have friends in Ukraine.

I remember visiting the school where she taught. It had beautiful paintings in the halls. I wondered why our American schools do not have such artwork decorating our learning centers.

A painting in a hall of a Ukrainian school.

Another painting in a hall of a Ukrainian school.

My first trip to Ukraine was in 1988. To celebrate the 1,000th anniversary of the Russian Orthodox Church, the government of the USSR had invited my good friend from school years, Tony (Anthony) Antolini, to perform Rachmaninov’s Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, a copy of the original he had found in a monastery in the States. This trip included the USSR republics of Russia and Ukraine.

During the fall of the USSR, Ukraine became its own nation on August 24, 1991.

Ukraine’s history goes back over a millennium. Kiev Rus began in the ninth century. In 988, Vladimir the Great, Prince of Kiev, Christianized Kiev by leading his citizens to the Dnipro (Dnieper in Russian) River for their baptism.

One of his sons, Grand Prince of Kiev,Yaroslav the Wise, ruled Kiev from 1019 until his death in 1054. It was in 1051, during his rule, the first monastery, Pechersk Lavra, the Monastery of the Caves, began.

Yaroslav the Wise established the Code of Laws even more advanced than what we have today. However, he made one very unwise decision. Instead of leaving his rule to his eldest son, he left a city to each of his many sons. No national unity there, something which did not help deter the invasion of the Mongols two hundred years later. The other main factor of the Mongolian invasion was the lack of any natural geographical features such as an ocean or mountain range between what are now Mongolia and Ukraine.  

St. Sophia still survives and along with the Pechersk Lavra both are now UNECSO World Heritage sites and located in Kyiv. I find the church and the lavra ecstatically beautiful. I am enchanted every time I enter them. It feels an honor to be in either one. When I was at the lavra in 2007, I bought an icon, one painted by an icon painter at the lavra. I spent perhaps an hour mulling over which one I wanted. I don’t know why I find this art form so attractive. The reason for the one-point perspective is that the viewer’s eye is drawn to the one point of its spirituality. What does attract me? The colors? The one-point perspective? As a Quaker, it’s not the meaning of the icon. I have many in my house and this original one and the reproductions I have always give me pause over their beauty. I feel a sense of calm as I look at an icon. I have many original works of art in my house and office. I pause over them also and also feel a sense of calm in am art museum.

I look at my icons whether from Ukraine, Russia, or a gift from a teacher in Belarus. They are beautiful works of art.

One of my icons. The writing is in old Slavonic or Ukrainian and I read neither language.

My icon, a gift from a Belarussian teacher when I lectured in Belarus in 2013.

An entrance to the Pechersk Lavra, Kyiv.

The Church of St. Sophia, Kiev, Ukraine.

When I was in Ukraine with my sister, and two Ukrainian friends of hers, a teacher and her psychologist husband, I received a phone call from my husband. He told me his mother, Eleanor, had just died. As we finished our breakfast on the patio of a café, our Ukrainian friends insisted I must go to a church to light a candle for her. This couple were religious, and my mother-in-law was Roman Catholic, so it seemed the right thing to do.

I did not grow up lighting candles for anyone. We walked to the nearby Ukrainian Church. They waited outside for me as I bought a candle and wandered the church. There was a wedding in progress, but it seemed quite normal that I would go in to light a candle. I wandered the walls of the church wondering which would be the appropriate saint. My mother-in-law was a renegade. Was there a renegade saint? I didn’t know. I could hear Eleanor chiding me, “Oh, just pick one!” I finally settled on one, but I don’t remember who she was. Still, it feels special to have lit a candle for Eleanor in Kyiv.

The church where I lit the candle.

I hold these cherished weeks I spent in Ukraine close. I am appalled the country has been invaded. Now more than three years later, I still wonder why. I am not political, but if I were, war, invasion, or incursion would be the last thing on my political agenda. Am I naïve to think it is about the egos of the rulers? Let’s go back 1,000 years and put the current world leaders at the front of their troops as they invade and fight. No leader does that today. They should. I’m quite sure that today we’d have fewer wars that way.

When the invasion of Ukraine began in February 2022, I wrote a friend that when it is over, I will come visit again. She said I’d be welcome.

I will go with tears in my eyes and a suitcase laden with post-war practical gifts.