I had a dream alone and I understood that everything. We need to prepare. She didn't walk alone for two Sundays. I received children's funds and immediately bought ten packs of baby food.

I thought like this: there is milk, let's take semolina, let's take vermicelli star too. Everything was thought out, everything was protected and hygiene products, because I have girls. A large cage bag, and there are cereals, pasta, everything. The main thing is that she brought ten liters of oil into the cellar alone, a bag with food and destroyed the house on the second day.

And I believe that this case showed that my children are strong for me. They are much stronger. Because I'm panicking. They held on. Katya said: "What will happen will not pass".

 Well, first, how did this war start? Already in the evening, we hear that a car is driving along the highway and say on a gramophone: "Everyone is in a shelter. Everyone's in hiding. There will be shelling." Here we climbed into the cellar, there are potatoes, everything is full. It drips from the ceiling, everything flows, dampness, cold, the little one in the overalls could not fall asleep. The child is not asleep. We put him in the house. Undressed, I hear something flying again, ‒ wear. Then the neighbors called us to their warm basement, because there was a solid fuel boiler there.

We were sheltered there, and then, when I went up to their kitchen, I saw a gas cylinder. There was a wooden floor between the basement and, let's say, the first floor of the house. And for the evacuation there was also a window with a square of 50 by 50 cm, and there were seventeen of us there. I understood that if a rocket hit, then a gas cylinder "babakh". He will cover us all there.

I called the boys. They took everything from my cellar to my father's barn. Everything was lowered there, made completely shaded. And here the beds were made completely and moved from those neighbors to their cellar. It was still so raw, because we breathe, but there was no hood at all.

 Father ran into the house and cooked behind the stove. We shouted, howled: "Dad, they shoot ‒ in the cellar". He: "No. Potatoes are fried today, buckwheat today". It was possible for the little one to heat the water and make porridge on the bourgeoisie.

So how did you dream. I turned on the freezer for maximum freezing. I think that if we do not open it, then my semi-finished products will lie for some time. So we still had dumplings and pancakes. I went to the checkpoint twice. It was a painful moment when we were told that the military had nothing to eat. They are not dressed, they have nothing: neither pots nor shovels. They can't prepare anything for themselves, dig in. Well, the guys are hungry, and I'll pick up pancakes of every format. I take oil, lard and go to the checkpoint. I say: "Guys, what do you need?", and they: "We want tea". I take a ten-liter bucket, make tea, bake six loaves of bread and go to them.

 It was the first hour of the day. She put the little one to bed and the shelling began. Just the second day we moved here. And we are already sitting like that, so my mother says: "This is my house on fire". Me: "Oh, it's mine already burning".

Well, the last woman was about two meters from the cellar when she removed the lid from it. Smoke entered the cellar ‒ it was already very scary. I covered the children with a blanket on top. Tried to hug somehow. I thought that if the lid had already been removed from the flying cellar, I tried to cover the children with my back. They climbed, the neighbor's shed was already on fire, we ran to the neighbors in the cellar. There I already dressed the little one on the move, because I was sleeping undressed.

The man threw clothes out of the window. To make me calmer, I threw away more than that. Well, the falling house did not risk entering. And he came in. The house is on fire, and he is also trying to throw some clothes out of it. And you worry about him. And you look at it as it all burns.

And you think: "Lord, well, get out there. No wonder, let it burn. It's all burning, let it burn, get out.'. I shouted at him. I say: "You don't have to, you don't stand. Well, he'll knock you down, I won't save you". And firefighters arrive when there are no more explosions. 

We jumped out of the basement, they recharged. And the second time after us. And rockets fly, and this one throws away clothes, and houses burn. And here the nerves were like that. "Let it burn, ‒ I say, ‒ children are sitting alive. Buildings will be rebuilt." The main thing for me is that I understood that everyone is alive. Honestly, I didn't feel sorry for the house.

Everything was clearly bought for me. Everything was prepared. Pot, we had everything in the basement. In fact, there were pads and all that. It's just that the underpants burned and the pads remained. They were looking around the village, asking for acquaintances. I say give at least some. No, so it is necessary to think about pads, about panties ‒ no. Yes, that's where it miscalculated. There was, of course, my big mistake here. It was still necessary to put the clothes in a bag. And then I thought about food, about hygiene. In what they jumped out, and everything else burned.

 Then the school director came by car and took me, the children, my mother. Everyone in the car and in the school in the bomb shelter. Let's put it this way, there were a lot of people there, more than a hundred, I think. We lived there. The school director paid a lot of attention to children. Volunteers brought something, and he gave it the same way, even a little bit, to all the little ones. They found a vat, put it and started cooking there for everyone who lives there at the school.

And it somehow went there, they say that the soup was boiled, someone brought the meat there. People started to bring some fish and some meat from freezers. No one sold anything, everyone helped as much as they could. I can already hear here, they say that there are potatoes and meat. It's over, cereal. I'm for myself, I take out my bag ‒ with vermicelli stars. I take different things, I recruit them, I bring them, until the director of the school is like this: "Marina, what did you bring? You need to feed your children. Take it away, we'll come up with something now". My uncle's wife is standing, she says: "Vitaly, she won't take it back. This is not the right person, do not persuade, so take, cook. She won't take it back." And so with these cereals of mine, we were a little interrupted, and there we already gave a lift to the humanitarian, it went easier.

 They stayed for eight days, and then there was an epidemic in the basement of the purulent sore throat. Apparently, the daughter began to have conjunctivitis, the son already had a sore on his lungs from his throat. I had antibiotics. Medicines for all cases and from rotovirus infection, both. I don't see it better for the child.

 A person who lived next to each other for a year turned out to be much more caring than others. He didn't abandon us for a moment. I already called Costa and said: "There is a virus in the basement, the children are sick, I will let you do something". I have to run away and I don't know how". After ten minutes, he calls, says: "15 minutes to the meeting. You're leaving." We said that we want to go to Dniprovske. Yes, the border zone. There you can see that planes are flying, but no one is shooting there, there is nothing there.

One man had a transshipment base on the way. Everything was done there so that people could be accommodated at night and separated further in the morning. He saw that I had a small child ‒ retreated to our room. We slept like kings on a double bed.

The woman was with her daughter and their 15 dogs had those pocket, small ones. It was such anti-stress for children. 

I came to the pharmacy, I look, and there, well, about a hundred people in reeds. I say yes and yes ‒ two-year-old is sick. Let me buy medicine, I was missed.

On the way to the intersection, three aerial bombs were dropped just in front of us. We didn't get there a little and the road is already blocked. An acquaintance is in line with cars, says that they went to the store. We opened it, raking out the products.

 We come to Dniprovske, and in Dniprovske, there is no bread left, oh, nothing. So, if possible, we drove a car to get food for people.

All self-propelled guns flying from Belarus flew over our house. We saw them take off, we saw them fly. Rockets were fired over our house. Our windows were covered with gray plastic. I took the little one, sat under the stove, but after the fires it remains intact. I sat small in front of me, held it and it was still scary.

After Dniprovsky, we returned to Bilous. My friend lived there, then she was abroad, and the house remained. And she allowed us to live with us.

 You know, maybe the children won't remember clearly, but... I'll say yes, we seemed to be sitting in the cellar, as if we had not seen anything, only heard. But when they were driving from Dniprovskyi and a military man was climbing to the top of a car, and the little one saw it, he became so hysterical. He shouted that they would shoot now. The child was getting off.

People are still afraid. No one left it. It will probably end when they say that's it, the war is over, go to bed. While the war is going on, I think that people will not be able to live peacefully.

No, we are only moving forward. As my girls say, "Mom, you could, and we can". If I start giving up and saying, "That's it, I can't", ‒ will be an example for my children.

I have to go forward. Here are others saying: "Oh, and suddenly they will shoot again", "Oh, my hands don't take something". No. We will go forward, to the detriment of all enemies. And we will do even better than it was.

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