Sunflowers at my Table - War Diaries of a Ukrainian Community

Little did I suspect when we held a meeting at Sichow in 2018 where Amber and her husband Paul Kieniewicz were running an educational centre that history would repeat itself within four years. I was struck at the time how Poland had repeatedly been invaded and occupied over the centuries, and both Paul’s parents and grandparents had been displaced by World Wars I and II. Here were people leading normal lives that were abruptly turned upside down into refugee status. It is always ordinary people who suffer most from the human consequences of geopolitical manoeuvres strategically planned on the ‘grand chessboard.’ Such ‘realists’ obsessed with political power have no regard for human life – humans are simply pawns in their game of Risk – some readers may have played this game in their childhood.

Amber and Paul had premonitions of war in their dreams (she ran programmes at the Jung Centre in Houston) – and they opened the doors of what they came to call The Cross Border House to 40 refugees (two million fled) by the end of February 2022 in an act of humanity and faith. These war diary letters originated as missives to donors who supported their efforts. They paint a vivid picture of the joys, pressures and challenges of life in community with its relentless daily demands that can grind them down and required huge reserves of mental, emotional and spiritual resilience. Art and self-generated entertainment provide an inspiring relief, and there are many moving stories in this respect. However, the reality for the Ukrainians was one of loss, grief and suffering, to which Amber is highly sensitive. She draws on literature (Elie Wiesel and a number of poets), mystical theology (Richard Rohr, Thomas Keating), philosophy, and the psychology of CG Jung to provide a larger context. In Answer to Job, he wrote that ‘the only thing that really matters now is whether man can climb up to a higher moral level, to a higher plane of consciousness.’ Hmm…

Amber’s reflections and her letter to her late mother-in-law are especially touching. Now she understands viscerally what Rose went through – she did not see her husband during the whole of World War II, then they emigrated to Scotland as refugees from Poland where they had been landed gentry. The theme of dignity is central, and Rose’s recommendations from a diary entry (p. 94) are deeply humane and relevant in relation to the poor and house guests: ‘Listen to them with great attention. Try to console them. Don’t say superficial things to them but with the real love which you have within you, enter into work alongside them and make an effort to make it easier.’ For Amber and Paul, this is about dedication to support and well-being, to compassion and solidarity, to Life itself. As you read these compelling diaries with a cup of tea in the comfort of your armchair, just think of the millions of displaced persons resulting from our continued belief in the efficacy of violence, vengeance and war which perpetuate rather than resolve the fundamental issues, creating further deep trauma in the process. How much longer will it take for us to awaken from this self-created nightmare?