BOOTS

 

BOOTS

Bogdan wandered the city in a daze of despair. His wife and children had left on a train three days earlier, thank God, because their apartment took a direct hit last night. He’d escaped, but pyjamas weren’t much protection against the bitter cold, and his feet were freezing.

His eyes followed the flight of a pigeon and there, just above him, hung some boots! He climbed gingerly through the shattered building to retrieve them, found jacket and trousers in another ruin, and life began to look hopeful again.

He headed towards the sound of gunfire – time to join the army.

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We take our peaceful lives for granted - until something as dreadful as Ukraine shows how fragile peace can be. Here in England there was a fund-raising concert last night, as many refugees are in dire need of everything - food, medicines and shelter being top of the list, and their army needs medical equipment as well as arms. My local pub landlord is organising a fleet of lorries, loaded with such necesseties, which are due to leave in a few days. Another pub landlord is taking in a family, as are many other families. I don't have the space, but we are all doing what we can for the women and children who have fled their country, leaving their men behind to fight the war.  Hell will freeze over before we trust Russia again.