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I would never have let go of my granny’s hand had I known that she would leave me

My parents died when I was nine months old. All I have left now are memories of the house where I was born. It had one room, a clay floor, a leaking roof and a single bed which I shared with my granny, my only family. She was my universe and I felt peace in the middle of the night any time I was frightened. When she lost her health and couldn’t take care of me anymore, she took me to an orphanage. That oppressive feeling of being abandoned in an utterly alien place clung to me for many years.

All the children looked the same, had the same clothing, followed the same routines. We all had to adjust to the dull lessons and constant hunger. All of us missed home, cried at night and were thankful for a fleeting hug or a kind word from a tutor. After many years I returned to the walls I knew so well, but this time as a staff member working for Mission Without Borders.

The living conditions had greatly improved; still, the children’s souls were going through the same motions as mine did.  Just like any other children, orphans need love. I’m so grateful that I found the source of love in the Most High. This is the most precious advice I can give to these little souls.

Olga, one of the first staff member of Mission Without Borders in Ukraine

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