Ukraine war and sunflowers

By Shin Freedman

In less than two weeks since the Russian invasion of Ukraine began, 1.5 million out of a population of 44 million have already fled Ukraine, according a report by the U.N. refugee agency. They are mostly women and children with their toys and crying faces. Men aged 18 to 60 remain in Ukraine to defend their country.

The number of refugees is certainly growing. Thousands and thousands of people are milling around railroad stations waiting for the next train to other countries ― Poland, Hungary, Slovakia, and Moldova. Many of them are mothers with suitcases and backpacks full of things and children in tow. Constant shelling by rockets and missiles, war-torn buildings, and tanks after tanks are something I am not used to seeing.

I am reminded of my family's experience during the Korean War. Like most families, my family fled from Seoul to the south. My mother, who had three children less than five years of age, and her teenage siblings, packed whatever they could carry and left our home.

I wondered what my mother carried in her suitcases ― food, clothing, bedding, pots and pans? I can't imagine. This was not a weekend trip for them. How do you prepare to flee during such chaos in just a day or two? What do you carry and for how long and to what extent can you take care of yourself? How do you take care of yourself and your loved ones in that situation when you run out of food, water or whatever?

Amid the atrocities of war, it's touching to see the media coverage of the many humanitarian acts in the bordering countries. Refugee help centers were set up in the bordering cities and towns of Poland where volunteers offer water, serve coffee and ready-made sandwiches.

There are piles of warm clothing like winter coats and jackets waiting for them at railroad station stops. A small-town mayor welcomes the refugees and reports that his town's population doubled in one week. What makes this neighboring country extend such humanitarian warmth? If my memory serves me correctly, I don't ever remember hearing such heart-warming refugee stories ― not with Afghan and certainly not with Syrian refugees.

I recall bits and pieces of the Korean War refugee experience from my parent's stories. Making meals with soup boiled with whatever greens you could pick in the field or gather and cooking in a wash basin at a train stop. My mother was always concerned about losing or missing any one of her children and siblings because they cried a lot and were at risk of getting lost during the chaotic escape. It must've been very difficult for my mother to breastfeed me because she was so dehydrated.

I cannot forget the story of a Ukrainian granny offering sunflower seeds to armed Russian soldiers to put in their pockets so that when they die in this war, at least the sunflowers will grow. The national flower of Ukraine will grow when normalcy returns.

Russia's invasion of Ukraine is not new, but President Zelenskyy's reaction is refreshingly admirable. “I don't need a ride. I need more ammunition,” he said. I get all choked up just like one translator did when I hear reports of the latest developments in wartime Ukraine. I wonder where all the flowers will go.

Shin Freedman (shinfreed@gmail.com) is the co-author of “Becoming a Library Leader: Seven Stages of Leadership Development.”