My daughter Skyla is sharing more of her war/helping refugees experiences from a year ago. It is good to open these things, so many things I didn’t really know about either. So far there are 7 sections.

Going into Ukraine during war,

by Skyla Sokol, part 1 of 7:

(The accuracy of my memory may not be 100 percent in the order of how everything happened.)

After staying with our friends for a few nights in Glogow, Poland, we were refreshed washed and ready to return to the border to serve. I was very busy watching every YouTube video on the topic of dogs and was already trying to teach Bairo stuff. (Now, looking back at my videos, I laugh and am ashamed of all the newbie mistakes I made and how I couldn’t read his obvious body language.)

When we returned to the Polish-Ukrainian border, most of the volunteers had changed, but the maintenance man recognized me and asked me to help again, but I already had Bairo, so in the nights I would leave him with dad in the van and go help, and in the days we drove people to their next town.

One time, we drove a woman with her son, and my father asked the boy How old are you? and he said, I am 13 and was already offered a gun to fight.

When my father asked how that was possible, his mother said that when they were driving towards the border, when they stopped at one of the many blockposts, “and I was asked who is in the car. I said just me and my child.” When, the solder looked in, he said, “You call that a child? He is old enough to fight already.”

Another time, we were at a center where they let refugees stay for a bit then decide where they want to move on next. It was a big mall, made over into a refugee center. Security was tight, but we could go in because we had Ukrainian passports. It was amazing– all the stores were closed and remade into health clinics, bed rooms, children’s nurseries, and the food court was a place where you could get free, warm food.

The main store had 300 beds, and tons and tons of everything needed for life. There were aisle upon aisles of free things. (I of course stacked up on dog food, tooth paste, shampoo, and got myself nice knee-high boots to walk with Bairo on rainy days, because I only took one pair of shoes from Albania and they were getting worn.)

In that mall, Dad said he could drive someone if needed, and a worried young woman in high heels with 3 men with carts behind her found us and said, “Thank God you can drive me! I am going into Ukraine, and am bringing my husband these bulletproof vests, and these buses only take people the opposite way, into the Polish cities.”

So we drove her back to the border, and when we arrived at the border, my father and another man were pulling the shopping cart with all the vests in them. but when we came to the end of the Polish line, the soldiers did not let us pass to keep helping her with the cart, so that woman, thin, and on high heels, talking on her phone, hurriedly took the heavy cart with one hand and pushed it away. The hill she was going up was slanted, and my father and I could not contain our smiles at how funny she looked, struggling with the cart. (I still communicate with her, and last I heard her husband was in Bahmut– where very heavy fighting has been going on for a long time.)

Going into Ukraine during war, by Skyla Sokol, part 2

Later, Dad received a phone call and was asked to be a main instructor in a church in Ukraine for a missionary course that the pastor wanted to teach to the refugees from Kharkiv and Donetsk that were living at the church. It was next to the city of Ternopil, so it’s close to the border, relatively safe. He consented and we drove into Ukraine.

Right before the border,er, we stopped at a motel to sleep because in Ukraine you were not be out after dark [curfew]. My father wanted to sleep in an actual bed, so he left me in the van with Bairo–my first night alone with him.

At this point I did not even know dogs needed walks to spend their energy; I didn’t know how much to feed him (and the food labels on his dog food were all in different languages), or how often pups went to the bathroom. I would just would take him out to the bathroom when I thought he needed it, but trying to tell when he needed it was hard. I wanted to sleep but Bairo kept biting me and tearing everything he could get, then he started jumping and yelping, and then started doing his thing, and I was like aaaaaa ok ok ok now I understand what you want, lets go!!!

After 5 minutes outside, we came back, cleaned the mess, and he first layed down on a mat, but then came to me and curled up onto my stomach and slept fell asleep.

The next day we drove into Ukraine, everything was very serious. My dad instructed me that if something happens, forget the dog and run for your life; if shooting will come from the front, you fall in between the car seats, and I will fall on you.

Also he said, Don’t go off into woods with Bairo, always look very carefully as there can be mines.

Once we stopped for a break, and dad spoke on the phone while I took Bairo to the bathroom. We saw a path that led up a small hill, and I very carefully went up it. There, I saw dug trenches that had openings looking right at us. So I slowly turned away and went straight back to the car, fed Bairo and we left.

Going into Ukraine during the war,

by Skyla Sokol, part 3

We came to another hotel to stop before dark, nobody was allowed out after 10 pm I think. I was really afraid of going out 2 times a night to take Bairo out. We just stayed inside the hotel territory. The hotel was very nice, and they said that they do not allow dogs usually, but because of the war, Bairo could be in there. Then we drove on and came to the church in a village by Ternopil that we were going to stay in while dad had his course.

That was a very hard place for me; Bairo and I were almost constantly outside on walks at places where it was safe to let him off leash. I still knew almost nothing of life with a dog and the sanitation that others wanted. I always cleaned the living room floor after being there with Bairo. I was a bit carless about leaving his stuff around but quickly learned to avoid leaving anything where it should not be. I was reminded of how my mother would get irritated at me when I would be careless and could not understand why could I not take care of a puppy properly.

Someone told me, Skyla, just understand he is your dog, and you love him, but others are not used to his smell and do not want him around as much.

Dad said I should be starting up school because since the beginning of the war I haven’t done much. So I made a schedule and would fix Bairo food in our room, and do math while Bairo slept.

During this time I also overheard my mother and father having a disturbing talk on the phone, and I thought how hard it probably is for her to let us into Ukraine. Those days that Dad was at the conference, I did not tell him of how hard it was to be there with other people. Especially with that baby’s mother—no one else ever commented negatively on the dog.

I saw airplanes flying overhead on my walks with Bairo, and the air raid siren would go off occasionally… Mostly it was just me and Bairo out in the woods. We would talk to the refugees that lived there and one of them said, “My friend told me last week that a missile flew into our work office, all of the expensive technology was destroyed.” Another man was telling of how they were in a basement with many people for many days, and one woman started being hysterical, screaming, and saying we are all going to die! And the man shouted at her to shut up. Because he needed to keep everyone sane. They were then all rescued out of there later by bus.

It was around this time that we also heard that a man in Dad’s hometown that Dad knew, was shot in his car while his son got to escape. Also we heard that a good friend of ours, who was in occupied territory, could not contain himself and went to speak his mind to the ruzzians. He said, “Who are you saving here? We do not need saving!” And the soldier told him to step back ten steps. The solder aimed his gun and him, but shot into the air and said, That was a warning; now get out of here. Later when the man heard stories from other villages he understand how lucky he was because in other villages, the soldiers could wound you, then bury you alive or all other kinds of stuff.

When the missionary course finished, we got word that people from Romania will be driving humanitarian aid into Ukraine and will deliver it to a church, where good friends of ours were currently staying. We decided to drive to them, and then later to take some aid into Dad’s hometown [now de-occupied].

Going into Ukraine during the war, by Skyla Sokol, Part 4

The friends we went to see next included my best friend. They were a foster family with 11 kids, and my best friend, Nastya, was the eldest. When we arrived, and the younger children saw Bairo, they did not say anything for a while, and then one said, “What a fat little pup.” They were all very serious. I laughed and said puppies need to be a little round, it means that they are healthy. Later they were amazed at how he could sit, and shake hands (paws?),

They had a little dog of their own, and one boy asked me for some treats and started trying to teach their dog (Baron) to sit. “Baron, sit.” (Nothing) “My sweet Baronshik, please sit.” (Nothing ) “BARON, SIT!!!” (Nothing) So I suggested he watch YouTube videos about dog training like I did.

The family told us that their house got a missile in it; the roof and the mother’s favorite white bathroom was gone; the children room was also damaged. Nastya and I liked to walk our dogs together. We did not talk much… We just wandered around the woods and fields with our dogs off leash. Later I asked their dad if it is ok that I give their dog a leash that I got at the border that was too small for Bairo. And he said, that would be good because our dog walks like a prisoner in that chain.

The dad was really impressed with Bairo and said, “Skyla I have always wanted a companion when my kids grow up, so if you will need to give away Bairo, I would take him.” And his wife exclaimed, No! you cannot possibly; never!

The next day, the humanitarian aid came and 3 vehicles drove it all to Kiev—one was our van. We passed many blockposts, and after the fifth one, I stopped counting in my head and marked them on my hand. The closer we got to Kyiv more there was to see. Houses burnt, gas stations destroyed, ruzzian tanks burned, parts of the road looked like battle places. The gas stations had looooooong lines.

We stopped at one, and I was sitting in the car focused on my math while dad was in the store. And a man knocked at the window. I did not recognize him, but when I saw the little girl he was with, My math papers flew into the air and I burst the door open and hugged the girl very tightly. They were the muslim Crimean Tatars that we went to every year to the beach to!!!! And the little girl was my friend that I played with a lot, (8yo) she could not speak words because of some disability, but she was very happy to see me, and by sounds, and hands was telling me something very interesting.

Going into Ukraine during the war, by Skyla Sokol Part 5

When we came to Kiev, we came to our apartment. I can’t believe I had a dog that lived to see my own place… It was strange. I looked at my room and saw that there were dog treats left there that I had bought for one of the dogs at the horse stables, but never got to give them, and here I was with my own dog. I had meant those treats for another dog, and God gave me my own…

It was so strange walking Bairo by the doggy playground by our apartment. I had not even thought that my very own dog would walk on this ground. That night we slept in our beds, I slept in MY own usual bed with MY own dog. Nothing could be weirder. For more than a month I have been sleeping on a different place almost every day. And here was the feel of our own pillows and blankets that I lived with all my life.

That night I also went through the house like a thief, looking for all my valuables, and anything I thought the family would want. In the night, I again was worried, taking out the dog after hours that nobody could be out; the apartment security guard let me take him right out the door on the grass where it said “no dogs allowed.”

The next day, we went to the place where they put the humanitarian aid. It was at our friends’ house, the friends that took our cat in when we left. When they left, they let it outside, and put its water and food in a shed. The place was covered in a thick layer of dust, and I saw cat prints in the shed, but did not really have hope of finding the cat. The food was gone, and her bed did not look like it was slept in.

We packed up food products, candles, and other things into our van and were getting ready to set out to the de- occupied villages. Dad said that this is where we really should be careful, no going off the road at all. As we drove through blockposts they sometimes re-routed us and would not let us on certain roads; they also had mines on the sides of the roads, and camo mini forts, and all over the roads were hedgehog tank stoppers (they were metal poles all connected in the middles and looking in different directions.)

They asked for our passports, destination, and goal on every blockpost. When we got out into area that was de-occupied, there were many bombed bridges, cut trees, damaged roads, burned tanks.

Finally we reached our village house. It was also very strange. In childhood days, everything was so different, and I always dreamed that I would grow up and live here with my dog. I was thankful that God let me show my puppy the place that I called home. The men in our rehabilitation center were telling of how during occupation, when the people were in the basements, they would ride in on bicycles to the next village to the bread factory and bring bread, under the sound of bullets.

Going into Ukraine during the war, by Skyla Sokol Part 6

The men at the rehabilitation center in our village house helped us sort out all the food into bags, then we went out to go to remote villages. There, people thanked us very much for the food and said that humanitarian air rarely was brought there. And we also gave Samaritans Purse Christmas presents to the children, which brought instant smiles to their somber faces.

One time when we were driving from one village to the next, I saw a strange animal crossing the road, and I forgot all of my common sense and all what dad made me promise and told him to stop the car! He stopped it and I ran after the animal off into the woods. After 3 minutes of its retreating, it turned on me and watched me, saying with its body language if you will come closer, I will fight you. He looked very serious so I decided not mess with him and went back to the car. I do not recall my father saying anything to me, but later I heard my mom say that my dad almost had a heart attack. (These woods were where fightings had occurred and nobody knew what mines could be there (and there were lots of stories of people picking mushrooms or just being in the woods and blowing up accidently were told.) The animal was a porcupine, I later found out, and I’d never seen one before, not even in photos.

Many houses were destroyed, and the people in one village showed us a place where they gathered all the missile parts they could find. When we finished there we also came back to dad’s hometown, and there was his relative; he told us that if we would look on the way into the village, there is a 5-story apartment and one balcony in a corner is blown away. It is because a Ukrainian was there videoing the ruzzians going down the road, and one tank, stopped, turned and fired at him.

Going into Ukraine during the war (March-April, 2022), by Skyla Sokol, Part 7

We wanted to take dad’s mother out of there; she was not handling everything so well, and when she said she didn’t want to go, we told her she could ask someone to come with her, so she took her sister Raya. We planned to take them to Poland. On the way back towards the border with Poland, we stopped at the church where dad was doing the missionary course and stayed there overnight. It was me, Bairo and the two grandmas in one small room. The grandmothers were a little afraid of Bairo so I never left him in there when they were there. My grandma said I will call this dog Bagira because a long time ago my friend had the same type of dog, and his name was Bagira.

By this time I have gotten used to Bairo a bit and if we were in a house I would cook rice, oatmeal and buckwheat with meat for him; if we were on the road, I would give him dog food. When we entered into Poland, we were almost at the monastery that we were taking them to stay, when Raya had a stroke. We drove into the monastery and called the ambulance. They took her away. After a few days when we saw that she was fine, we left our grandma there, and decided to leave for Albania. It had been six weeks.

On the way we stopped at our friends’ house; they were renting an apartment and got jobs in Poland. My father spent the night at their place, but I slept in the car with Bairo. I showered there and made him food for the road.

Everywhere we went, children liked to play with Bairo, and I would let him off leash and they would run and play tag and throw sticks. We were on the long drive back to family, passing through, Slovakia, Hungary, Serbia, Kosovo, Macedonia… And finally into Albania.

When we came home, the Family was much exited to meet the puppy, this is a puppy? He is so big! The place where we rented was not happy about him but they did not say anything. I slept in the car with him for the next few days while we decided what to do.

And, one day our mom thought that we could go live in a refugee camp in Romania for a time. So we packed up, and left.