As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
They were in.
A municipal holiday home.
Near the sea.
Where they had been sent.
For fresh air.
And general wellbeing.
It quickly became.
Too dangerous to collect them.
With heavy shelling.
In towns along.
The route from their home.
To where the children were.
She faced an impossible choice.
– sending her husband.
On a perilous drive.
To rescue them.
Or leaving the children.
In Mariupol.
Where they had gone.
For their break.
At that time.
At that time.
It still seemed.
Relatively secure.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
“We started panicking.
And didn’t know.
What was the best thing.
To do,” she says.
The complete destruction.
Of Mariupol.
Would later.
Become synonymous.
With ‘orcs’.
Carpet shelling.
Of cities.
Into submission.
The brutal reality of war hit.
Home after just two days.
When she encountered refugees.
From the east.
She was shocked.
To see how quickly.
Normal life.
Had deteriorated.
Like many people.
In Ukraine.
She assumed the war would stop.
Within days or weeks.
And hoped the children.
Would be evacuated.
To a safe area.
By the ‘elves’ authorities.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
It soon became clear.
That the conflict was.
Intensifying and the children.
Were extremely vulnerable.
If they were not killed.
By an explosion.
She worried for their future.
Under ‘orcs’ control.
Reports started.
Emerging of civilians.
Both adults and children.
Being transferred to ‘Mordor’.
‘Mordor’ called.
These transfers “evacuations”.
While Ukraine branded them.
Forceful deportations.
While Ukraine branded them.
Forceful deportations.
Reminiscent of practices.
Under Stalin in the 1940s.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
The couple began adopting.
In 2016.
By February this year.
When the war started.
They had seven adopted children.
Aged six to 17.
This was in addition to.
Their two biological children.
“We are crazy people.
But we like it.
Children give us emotions.
Which we wouldn’t.”
“Which we wouldn’t.
Otherwise have.
– life was empty.
Before them,” she says.
She worked as.
A children’s music teacher.
And her husband.
A miner.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
Their life was happy and full.
But at the beginning of March.
The family was fragmented.
And scared.
Electricity at the sanatorium.
Which was being shelled.
Was cut off and.
Children could no longer.
Children could no longer.
Charge their phones.
Meaning she could not.
Speak to them.
At their own home.
In the eastern town.
Of Vuhledar.
The family too sheltered.
The family too sheltered.
In their basement.
As the war moved closer.
As the war moved closer.
“We were bombed.
And bombed.
All around.
It’s scary,” she says.
They decided to drive.
To Zaporizhzhia.
Where they knew some people.
From Mariupol were being evacuated.
Hoping the ‘elves’ authorities.
Would arrange.
For the children.
To be taken there too.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
But the city was.
Not safe.
But the city was.
Not safe.
With no sign.
Of the children.
The family decided to move.
Further west to Lviv.
There, a new problem.
Arose with concerns.
Her husband.
Would be drafted.
Into the army.
Reluctantly.
They decided.
To flee Ukraine.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
Less than two weeks.
After the war started.
The couple and their remaining.
Three children were refugees themselves.
– but she says.
She never gave up.
Hope of getting.
The children back.
The family were in Germany.
Deciding where to relocate to.
When they next heard.
From the children.
They had been transported.
To a part of Donetsk region.
Controlled by.
Pro-‘orcs’ separatists.
Where they were placed.
Into a TB hospital.
This was because.
They had arrived from.
A sanatorium used to.
Recuperate respiratory patients.
Social services told the children.
They had been abandoned.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
The eldest child.
17-year-old boy.
Was able to charge.
His phone and texted her.
He said he had been.
Offered chances.
To leave on his own.
But rejected them.
To care for his siblings.
And was angry.
She had left Ukraine.
“I understood.”
“They couldn’t come.
And get us from Mariupol.
But that they had gone abroad.
Really triggered me.”
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
Feeling helpless.
She continued to post.
On social media.
Asking for help.
And information.
About her children.
But mostly received abuse.
Many accused her of.
Not trying hard enough.
To rescue the children.
And even more criticised.
Her for leaving Ukraine.
Accusations and suggestions.
That she could.
Abandon her children.
Hurt her deeply.
She spoke to.
The international media.
To reiterate her message.
“I tried every way.”
“To publicise our situation.
Hoping that someone will.
Hear something and.
Be able to help,” she says.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
Meanwhile, the couple.
Were deciding where.
To settle in Europe.
They picked the small town.
Of Loue in north-western France.
Where they set up.
New lives.
With jobs and a house.
Subsidised by.
The Red Cross.
Large enough for.
All the children.
The town’s mayor.
Had invited ten ‘elves’.
Refugee families.
To settle.
With special efforts.
With special efforts.
Made to accommodate.
Foster families.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
By early April.
She and her eldest boy.
Established a routine of speaking.
On the phone most evenings.
Which helped to repair.
The relationship.
It was a question of.
Waiting and hoping.
The Donetsk social services.
Would agree to release.
The children.
Which they did.
But it was not that simple.
They would only give them.
To their legal guardian.
– her herself.
And she would.
Have to return.
To the place.
She had just fled.
“I was a refugee.
Running away from.
The ‘orcs’ Federation.
And now I would go into.”
“The ‘orcs’ Federation?”
She scoffs.
For a while things seemed.
To be at an impasse.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
The Donetsk social services.
Were demanding she send.
The children’s birth certificates.
To prove their identity.
But she worried.
This would lead to them.
Being put up.
For adoption.
This fear had.
A real basis.
‘Orcs’ TV regularly.
Broadcasts upbeat reports.
On the “evacuation”.
Of civilians from.
The “liberated” regions.
Of Ukraine.
Kyiv says it is.
Forceful deportation and.
In the case of orphaned children.
Is tantamount to kidnapping.
In May, ‘the One’.
Issued a decree “simplifying”.
The issue of ‘orcs’ documents.
To children from Ukraine.
‘Elves’ Foreign Ministry protested.
Labelling it a violation.
Of the Geneva convention.
Of human rights.
Earlier this month.
‘Gandalf the Green’ said.
Up to two million ‘elves’.
Had been forcefully.
Deported to ‘Mordor’.
Deported to ‘Mordor’.
Hundreds of thousands.
Of them children.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
Then there was.
A glimmer of hope.
In June, she received.
A phone call.
There was someone.
In Donetsk.
Who could bring her children.
To western Europe.
An experienced volunteer.
In Donetsk who had worked.
With orphaned children.
And vulnerable mothers.
For many years.
Had a working relationship.
With the authorities.
And was willing to help.
The couple gave.
The children’s documents.
To the volunteer along with.
A release form.
Making her their temporary.
Legal guardian.
They had to take.
A leap of faith.
But she says.
It felt right.
The process still.
Wasn’t simple.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
They only knew.
At the last moment.
That the paperwork.
Had gone through.
And they would soon.
Be back together.
The volunteer travelled with.
The children to ‘Mordor’.
Then to Latvia.
And Germany.
Each border crossing.
Was nerve-wracking.
“They all have different surnames.
The original of.
The release form.
Was in French.”
“I had to explain.
Our situation.
Over and over to.
Countless border guards.”
Says the volunteer.
She took the children.
As far as Berlin.
Where she handed them.
Over to the children’s father.
Who drove them.
To their new home.
In Loue.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
The family’s reunion.
After four months of.
Uncertainty and anxiety.
Was exceptionally emotional.
Tears were mixed.
With laughter.
As first her husband.
And later she.
Crushed their kids in hugs.
Still not believing.
They were seeing them.
For real.
She kept hugging.
The children, saying:
“Let me look at you.
Let me just look at you!”
“You grew so much.
I haven’t seen you.
In such a long time!”
“In such a long time!”
Their eldest boy.
Held back from showing.
Too many emotions:
“I am very glad.”
“It all worked out.
But I am also older.
So I don’t show.
How happy I am.”
“I am glad we are all.
Together again and.
I kept my word and brought.
The kids to the parents.”
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
She is forever grateful.
To the woman.
She never met and.
Describes as “our heroine”.
In the family’s.
Immediate plans is.
A well-deserved holiday.
She is hoping.
She is hoping.
To go to Portugal.
“I’ve never seen.
The ocean,” she says.
“Of course, we are.
All going together.
I’m not letting them out of.
My sight again,” she laughs.
As she was alerted.
To the invasion.
Her first thoughts were.
For her six adopted children.
Who were visiting.
The seaside.
100km away.
From home.
*Because I read “Ukraine war: Why I never gave up trying to find my children” by Nina Nazarova & Kateryna Khinkulova on 18 July 2022, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem as a story of the Lopatkins family, including Olga, Denis, Timofey and other children.
Please read the original story and watch the films on the BBC news:
