My Ukrainian brothers

Nathalie Halbout is with David Halbout in Red Bank.

Today in Ukraine we celebrate Ukrainian National Day of Defenders. Fallen and Alive.

I just put down this TRUE STORY in one breath. Pls put + in comments, if you read to the end.

« They say dreams always come true, but never quite the way you imagine.

I always wanted a brother—a protector.

I grew up without a father...

Well, I had one, officially. My parents divorced when I was two.

In Ukraine, at school, I was considered "disadvantaged."

Kids without fathers were placed in a special category, eligible for discounted meals and an extra glass of milk at lunch.

Everyone knew my mother no longer had a husband.

Being in that category made me feel vulnerable. Defenseless against any kind of harassment—there was no man in the family.

The chances of getting another father were slim, so I started dreaming of having a brother.

An older brother.

I kept pestering my mom about it, and eventually, she agreed to start the process of adoption.

His name was Vova. He was twelve, and I had just turned six. He looked tall in the photo.

I was excited—until I overheard my mom say Vova would get my new red satin blanket.

No! No! And again, no!

That blanket was mine: silky to the touch, lustrous crimson red, and warm enough to wrap myself up in it like a cocoon.

Then I learned Vova would also get other things I was used to: his own bookshelf, desk, lamp, and money for the movies.

Mom would have to buy him a new school uniform, too.

Did I mention we weren’t rich?

It didn’t seem fair, and I threw a fit—I didn’t want to give up my blanket, and more than that - I no longer wanted a brother.

I was stubborn, and in the end, Vova never became my brother...

When the war started, thousands of men took up arms to defend Ukraine.

For many, it was their first time holding a gun.

Thousands lost their lives.

This summer, I met so many of our defenders in Ukraine.

And I realized that my dream came true-I had so many brothers now—men who protected me, my family, and my country!

Some continue fighting off the russki invaders.

Others lay gravely wounded in the hospitals.

 Wrapped in bloody bandages and missing limbs, wincing in pain and yet possess so much grit that they plan to return to the front once they get prosthetic legs.

I wish I could anoint their wounds with healing balms, soothe their pain, and calm their minds.

I tried my best-in the hospitals , I listened to their stories, brought them food, and helped them with small chores.

I brought books to read and we prayed together.

My Ukrainian brothers are in my thoughts every day.

 Some of them I’ve never met and likely never will. Yet, they are out there, either fighting in the trenches or being carried out on stretchers, wounded.

My brothers, how can I thank you for your protection? What can I do to keep you safe, aside from sending first aid kits? Take my satin blanket—take anything I have. Just please, come back alive. »

Photo credit@libkos