Late in the evening, a WhatsApp message reaches me. "May I ask you to pray for my friend's father? He died in the heavy fighting for Bachmut." I am just in the church and in the darkness I light a candle for him and send it as a photo to Kiev. The next day I prepare St. Nicholas Eve with a young mother in the Orthodox tradition for the children of Ukraine in our town. I tell her about the evening's message. Immediately she begins to mention to me all the names of those who have already died from her relatives. We sit in silence for a few moments, tears in our eyes. In the afternoon, I hand out a few Christmas trees. I meet a mother who has arrived with three children from Ukraine. When asked if she wanted a Christmas tree, she shakes her head, "We're not in the Christmas mood this year! Ask my children." When I ask them later and they consult with their mother, they too decline the offer, "Not this year!" As they say this, I look into deeply sad eyes. I wonder what might be moving them. As I pray in church in the evening, my heart is wandering by all these people. How many tears will be cried again that night? Far from home, alone with great responsibility, an uncertain future, fear for the loved ones who have stayed, alone with so much heavy news... I try to bear all this. In silence, I place it on the heart of the One who promised us: "Be sure, I am with you always, until the end of the world!
