My name is Anastasiia, and my story begins in the heart of Ukraine, where life was peaceful until Feb. 24, 2022. That day, everything changed. Russian troops invaded our country, and our lives were thrown into chaos. I have a daughter, Stefania, who was only two years old at the time. She could sense the fear and anxiety around her, and it affected her deeply—she stopped talking and her development seemed to halt. As a mother, it was heartbreaking to see, and I knew I had to make a difficult decision for her sake.
We left Ukraine gradually, moving west to escape the worst of the fighting. But even in the west, we weren’t safe. Stefania got sick, and we ended up in a regional hospital. All around us, the sound of rockets and air raid sirens filled the air. We often had to take refuge in bomb shelters, surrounded by other frightened children and panicked mothers.
The moment that convinced me we had to leave Ukraine immediately happened at home. Stefania and I were alone, and I had left her in the living room while I went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Suddenly, I heard a loud whistle, and the entire house began to shake violently. Stefania woke up and started crying, and I ran to her, desperate to grab her and get us both to safety. A neighbor burst into our home, his eyes wide with terror. He told me a rocket had flown low over our house. It was too close—a sign that we couldn’t stay any longer.
With the help of my relatives, we managed to get the necessary documents and tickets. The journey out of Ukraine was long and exhausting, but we were lucky to meet kind people along the way who helped us.
When we arrived in America, it was Stefania’s first time seeing snow, and she was thrilled. What struck me the most were the people. They were so friendly, polite and always smiling. I never expected such a warm welcome.
The biggest challenge for me has been the language barrier. There’s also the cultural difference and the realization that life will never be the same. Starting over from scratch has been hard, and I’ve struggled with depression, trying to come to terms with everything we’ve lost. But I’m incredibly grateful to my relatives here—they took us in, helped us with the documents and even found a kindergarten for Stefania.
There’s a saying, “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.” That phrase has become my mantra, helping me hold on and not give up. I have to be strong, not just for myself, but for Stefania. She deserves a better life, and I need to be a good example for her.
For me, the greatest achievement and source of happiness is knowing that my daughter is safe, that she’s talking and smiling again and that she’s having a happy childhood. I’ve also found a good job, and I’m surrounded by kind, supportive people.
Looking forward, I want to close all my immediate needs and then plan on going to college, starting my own business and traveling as much as possible. I’ve learned that the most important thing is knowing what you want and pursuing your goals, no matter how difficult the path may be. Life can throw anything at you, but as long as you remain a good, decent person, everything will eventually work out. That’s what I believe, and that’s the lesson I want to pass on to Stefania.
