is at the edge of the city and sits first in line to incoming fire. As a result, it sustained many missile strikes and was very heavily damaged. Her neighbors left on the first day of the war.  Natalia is disabled; no one came for her. She was left alone in her home - her husband had passed and she had no other family.

At first, the lights disappeared; then, the water was gone. The portable heater stopped working and the gas was shut off. It was negative 12 degrees outside and the house wasn’t much warmer - the windows were shattered from nearby explosions. Her food and water reserves quickly ended.

Natalia just after exiting the evacuation van.

The view along the journey to Natalia's home.

Often, Natalia would hear someone walking outside on the broken glass. She would yell “Help!  Save me!”, but no one ever came.  

For one and a half months Natalia did not have contact with others. Her neighbors left, her telephone died, no one was left at home. Without close relatives, she was totally alone.

Since Natalia is disabled it was very difficult for her to move around. Leaving home in search of help or supplies was out of the question.

Nights were often the most frightening. She heard automatic weapon fire, shouting by Russians, and the noise of artillery coming from the forest.

When we went to evacuate Natalia, the checkpoint guards did not let us through. Her neighborhood was under artillery fire and considered dangerous. We drove to the head commander in that area and asked the military to evacuate her. He refused, but gave us permission to go ourselves.

Approaching the home, our bus got tangled in trolley wires. They were damaged by explosions and were hanging over the road. The home was right next to the forest through which Russian forces were advancing.  

But, thank God, at that moment they weren’t there. We managed to evacuate Natalia between the web of trolley wires.

The war-torn street outside Natalia's home. She hobbles along in the distance.

Natalia Nivolaevna recounted her story to us while we drove her to safety.  

Never have I met a more optimistic person. Not once did she complain about what she had to live through. Instead, she turned to humor. She celebrated rain on the car window, birds in the air, fellow passengers in the bus, even water. She jokingly referred to her hunger as a “sweet diet”. On the drive, she encouraged others, gave away her motion sickness pills, and gave water to the elderly. When the pills didn’t help, she handed out motion sickness bags.  

She was full of life and joy.

I asked her what helped her get through it all.

“Vadik, I already said - I knew that Jesus wouldn’t leave me.”