By Anna Blashchuk
Translated and edited by Voices of Ukraine
A few days ago I took a ride on the subway…
At “Golden Gate” station [in Kyiv], a man got jammed between the doors. People were asking for a long time, “Please open the door!” I was thinking that the man who was caught must have a really slow reaction time because he was way too slow to respond. After a few more stations, there were fewer people and I saw the man’s face, very tired and exhausted and wearing the current military uniform. I sat near the rail. All the seats were occupied. The man walked over and leaned on the railing next to me on a backpack on his back. He was almost lying on that rail.
There was no doubt, he was returning straight from the damn war. It was evident on his face and by the way he frowned and moved his weight from one foot to another. He was definitely in pain. I gingerly touched his shoulder and asked: “Have a seat?” –”No.” A couple more stations passed. I didn’t know how to start a conversation.
While I was sitting, I could not see the stripes on his sleeve. Before leaving, I found 200 hryvnas in my pocket. When I stood up I saw an embroidered sign “Cyborg.” “Are you going home?” “Yes.” “Was it difficult?” “Yes.” I didn’t know how to continue the conversation – but I really wanted to hug him, to thank him, to cry. Everyone around us stared and began to listen to our conversation.
I suddenly began cleaning his dirty cap by saying: “Oh, your cap got dirty…” He kept his hands in his pockets and I slipped the money straight into his hand: “Here, take it, buy your wife some flowers.” The tiredness was instantly gone from his face and he blurted out loudly: “No, it’s not necessary! I have money! What are you doing? You shouldn’t!”
I felt foolish and guilty. But, finally, I found the words: “It’s the only thing I can do for you.” My Hero turned out to be more truthful than me, lost in Kyiv amongst vatniks and separatist-priests. He said straight from the heart: “Without you, we are nothing.” I returned to my senses and, weeping like a child, squeezed out: “No, without YOU, we are nothing.” I could not hold back my sobs anymore and stupidly went to the opposite door, dripping with snot and tears.
His words followed me: “Thank you. I’ll buy my wife flowers.”
I cried after that another two hours. With the tears poured out unspoken words. How much I wanted to say! And I didn’t! I only hope that this man heard me with his heart.
Our men are the best. We love you very much and we pray for you. We embrace and hold you. We wish you all a safe and victorious return, our dear heroes, so you may raise our children to be as true and honest as you are.
Hear me, Cyborg from the subway! You were protecting me from the horde and I couldn’t even give you a hug. But I really wanted to!
Return to us alive, please!
Source: Anna Blashchuk FB
Amazing story, I did cry to…Heroes of Ukraine – Glory Forever !!!
Sława Ukraini Heroiom Sława pozdrawiam Z Polski czytając to aż się chce płakać
Слава Україні! Героям слава! вечная память 😥
touching, sincere … Glory for soldier and Ukraine!
I cried with you, and for all those that have given so much of themselves for freedom, self determination and independence. If we appreciate them, respect them and honor their commitment to Ukraine and the promises of Maidan, then we can survive this horrible insult to humanity that wants to make us slaves again.
Amen! Beautifully written…Ukraine will be victorious….it is the thread that will unravel putin and russia….it has already begun! Slava Ukraini and all her heroes!!
I was truly touched.
Thanks a lot Anna! Thank you for this story! I hope now the Ukrainians are peu a peu understanding – we can cope up with Huylo only by stucking together!
Слава Україні та її Героям!
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Thanks much for translation. I was crying again and thanks for warm commets
Thanks for writing it, Anna. It is our pleasure translating it and having it in our archives as an important record, with all the others, of a truthful moment of exchange in Ukraine’s history. Героям Cлава!
What can I say? wow… thank you for sharing.