Skip to content
Call Us Today! 212-533-4646 | MON-FRI 12PM - 4PM (EST)
DONATE
SUBSCRIBE
Search for:
About Us
UNWLA 100
Publications
FAQ
Annual Report 2024
Annual Report 2023
Annual Report 2022
Annual Report 2021
Initiatives
Advocate
Educate
Cultivate
Care
News
Newsletters
Sign Up For Our Newsletter
Join UNWLA
Become a Member
Volunteer With Us
Donate to UNWLA
Members Portal
Shop to Support Ukraine
Search for:
Print
Print Page
Download
Download Page
Download Right Page
Open
1
2-3
4-5
6-7
8-9
10-11
12-13
14-15
16-17
18-19
20-21
22-23
24-25
26-27
28-29
30-31
32-33
34-35
36-37
38-39
40
Others glance... Happy, gay... Carrying her son home, She imagines the whole village Gazed only at him the live long day; And nothing more, — Fortunate one! T. Shevchenko: “U nashim rayi” (In our paradise) And she suffers when her child, her son suffers in pri son. In a letter to her daughter-in-law, his mother writes: “ I am staying here for a time. At least he will see that some kin of his is near; perhaps, he will feel less aban doned... I pray a lot now. Frequently, I am unaware that night has passed and morning finds me kneeling before the Crucifix. The nuns, with whom I have found shelter, pray with me... Prayer gives me strength... Once, in my youth, I found this astonishing expression in a book: ‘If there is no God, I will invent one!... My reaction at that time was that it was abominable impudence, ostenta tion, a reaching for an original, majestic phrase. It seems to me that every heretic who throughout his life denied the existence of God, finding himself in my position, would cry out also: ‘Lord, Lord! If you don’t exist, I will invent you!!!”... Pray, my child. And teach your children to pray ... All of you, pray. We have nothing more to hope for ...” Olha Mak: "Z chasiv Yezhovshchyny” (Age of the Iron Hand) The figure of mother — teacher, mentor, friend — shines like a bright star in the life of the child, the poet writes: Mother! That star — is you! Although distance part us, Between us flowed the ocean of separation. In the hour of vision, in sleep of a weary moment, I feel your gentle hands... That's why I will not return from the road fatigued, No matter how my feet bleed over stones, Though the losses of spring storms travel with me. Though some sort of bitterness seems to approach As long as you shine before me, I will go onward... S. Charnetskyj ‘ “Moyiy Маті” (To my Mother) In Shevchenko’s poem “Neophytes”, the mother of the neophyte Alciades who falls a victim of the brutal Nero watching the heroic death of her martyred Christian son, is so impressed with the ideal that she follows his footsteps. The mother is the Ukrainian mother, mother- heroine, who, losing her only child, goes to do the unfinished, continues the task: And, on the shore, you were left alone, And you watched as the wide circles spread, interlaced Over him, your righteous son. You watched until no living trace remained on the water. And then you smiled. And gravely, bitterly burst into tears; And for the first time prayed to the Crucified, for us. The Crucified Son of Mary saved you, And into your living soul you accepted His living words. And into the market-places and palaces, you carried The words of Truth of the Living God. T. Shevchenko' “Neophyte”. Prepared by Olena Zahaykewich—Melnyczuk Reprinted from the “Ukrainian Section” a publication issued during the Women’s International Exposi tion, held in November 1955 in New York. Branch 113 of UNWLA is pleased to present Artist ORESTA SZEPAROWYCZ in her first one-woman art exibition in New York City, featuring paint ings of lush tropical landscapes and fauna. May 31, 1986 5:00 — 9:00 p.m. The Ukrainian Institute 2 East 79 St., New York Open to the Public For Information contact: Luba Firchuk (718) 721-5675 Видання C оюзу Українок A мерики - перевидано в електронному форматі в 2012 році . A рхів C У A - Ню Йорк , Н . Й . C Ш A.
Page load link
Go to Top
1 
2-3 
4-5 
6-7 
8-9 
10-11 
12-13 
14-15 
16-17 
18-19 
20-21 
22-23 
24-25 
26-27 
28-29 
30-31 
32-33 
34-35 
36-37 
38-39 
40 
