(This story is part of the refugee exodus coverage from Ukraine to Romania in March 2022)

“I don’t need anything”

Who knew the hardest thing would be to try and convince a woman to accept help.

She walks across border, her kid in one hand, a single piece of luggage in the other, frozen stiff. She spent 2 weeks hiding in a basement, 2 days on the road expecting to be shelled any minute, 12 hours waiting at the border in freezing cold, and now she’s standing in front of you saying she doesn’t need anything.

Food and water? “We are not hungry”. Come rest in a warm tent, “No thank you”. Free money: “How come”, and “I can’t take this” and “Give it to the others who need it more”.

We are now aces of gentle coercion. We tell her it’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok. We explain that everyone is here to help. We gently place the money in her pocket and zip it up.

That’s when she breaks down and starts crying.

We start walking her down the road, mainly to keep ourselves from starting to cry with her. We take her on the tour of the “Golden Triangle”: hot soup; heated tent; local SIM card and Wi-Fi. The kid gets a treat, a toy, a piece of fruit brought over every minute: the Israeli tent, the Maltese tent, the Spaniards, the Romanians, the Greeks.

She unfreezes and starts talking.

Turns out, she has very little on her and nothing but uncertainty ahead. We try not to talk about what’s left behind. We talk buses, shelters, volunteer groups in other cities and other countries. The kid is now playing ball with the nuns. She asks for more hot tea before getting in the bus.

We see her again and again and again. She doesn’t need anything and she doesn’t trust anybody and doesn’t expect anything good. So we put our hand on her shoulder again and again and again and again.

It’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok.

#UkraineWar #SiretStories