Horytsvit 10

Ten days in May, surrounded by mountain silence, gave 26 participants a real chance to recover and to gain a precious experience of humanity and support.

Sadly, many children in Ukraine still live right next to the fighting, and many more are deprived of basic safety by missile strikes, the threat of which remains very high across the whole country. Many of the participants at this camp came from Kharkiv, Ukraine’s cultural capital – and it so happened that throughout that May, the city was hit every day by explosions from russian missiles.

In these circumstances, the children – out in nature, busy with all kinds of art and social activities, and held in a trusting community – felt deep gratitude for the priceless chance to regain their strength. Take Kateryna: her family’s home was hit and their flat was badly damaged, so at 15 she helped her father repair it while her mother and little sister left the city. It was clear straight away that Kateryna was grown-up and responsible beyond her years. She came to the camp wanting to spend time with all sorts of people, as she is now in her third year of studying online. The camp gave Kateryna the chance to show her talent for teaching: she taught anyone who wanted to learn to play the guitar, since in recent years she herself had found comfort in the sound of its strings.

Another participant from Kharkiv was also called Katia. Katia lost her older brother in the war and is still living through that grief. Long walks, heartfelt conversations and a safe space to let her emotions out helped her start talking about her feelings and sharing her story. What Katia valued most at the camp was human connection: feeling trust again, feeling heard in her difficult emotions, and being accepted. The life of the camp also inspired her to write poems and to transform her feelings through creativity:

“peonies are shedding, plaster is crumbling,

night in the east is when there’s a flash and a blast,

and it has nothing to do with lightning and thunder.”

Some remarkable things at the camp happen invisibly – not everything can be seen with the eye. From Zaporizhzhia, the ancient city of the Cossacks, came 13-year-old Danylo. Danylo finds it hard to cope with the stress of the war – he has put on weight and become very withdrawn. At the camp we saw that he found it hard to stay in contact with others and was very self-conscious. But our approach is to create a loving space where everyone can be themselves. We believe that respect for each person’s uniqueness is healing in itself, especially in wartime, when this basic human right is violated. Danylo didn’t stand out in the group with vivid emotions or deep revelations, but something meaningful certainly changed for him. After the camp we received a letter from Danylo’s mum: “Your camp really does heal, restore and inspire creativity, together with nature and the incredible beauty all around. My son told me that all the children were creative and nobody hurt or bullied anyone, so I’m very grateful to you for such a wonderful holiday for my child!” At the camp Danylo got interested in playing the guitar, and in his very first week back home he went to a music school with his dad and signed up for lessons.

At the camp we pay particular attention to building supportive relationships between children who have been through similar hardships because of the war. Community here isn’t just a word – it’s a vital need for every one of our participants. But beyond relationships, life at Horytsvit was full of creative imagination: the teenagers made short films about themselves, created wild collages from all kinds of materials, sang Ukrainian songs in rounds and explored beauty through sculpture. Hikes along the ridge calmed the storm of thoughts, letting the body move naturally and get pleasantly tired.

There’s so much we could write about Horytsvit – but seeing the participants’ lively, joyful smiles just once says it better.