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30 WWW.UNWLA.ORG “НАШЕ ЖИТТЯ”, ТРАВЕНЬ 2014 A SPECIAL MOTHER Interview with Natalia Yarosh by Olesia Wallo After just a few minutes of talking to Natalia Yarosh, one begins to understand what a very special person she is. While most of us live first and foremost for ourselves and our small circle of family mem- bers, she and her husband have created a different kind of family, having invited ten orphaned or abandoned children to join them and their two biological sons in their home in Dubliany—a town near L’viv, Ukraine. For eight years now, Ms. Yarosh and her husband have been at the helm of one of Ukraine’s many family-type children’s homes. Pani Nataliu, how did this journey begin for you? One time when I was a young girl, my mother and I visited an orphanage. To this day I remember the eyes of the children who surround- ed us when we came in. Some of them cried out, “Mama!” When I reached out to them, several threw their arms around me and one girl whis- pered, “Take me away from here...” I was maybe twelve at the time, but that was the moment when I decided that in the future I would adopt at least one child who was growing up without a mother. When did this dream become a reality? It happened two decades later. When my husband and I learned about the new state pro- gram which was opening family-type children’s homes in Ukraine, we did not hesitate; we ap- plied, took the required classes, passed the exams, and then waited until children would be trans- ferred into our care. At the time our sons Bohdan and Vasyl’ were already in high school. Ivanko came to us from the Kherson re- gion; a little later we found out that a girl named Svitlanka was recently placed in a local orphan- age. When she first saw me, she wrapped her arms around my neck and asked, “Mom, where have you been for such a long time?” Before we met Zorianka, they warned us that she was afraid of men and did not let them approach her. As I held her on my lap, my husband beckoned her to come to him, and she did so right away, giving him a big hug. Three siblings—8-year old Irynka, 5-year old Ivanko, and 4-year old Marichka—came to us from an orphanage near L’viv. At first, Ira would always sit next to the radiator and rock back and forth. She spoke very little and looked frightened and distrustful. Her younger brother had a stut- ter, from which he still suffers when he gets anx- ious. Maria, the youngest, had serious problems with her liver and skin. Next, our family was joined by 5-year old Pavlyk and 4-year old Olenka. Thus, at this point we had eight children in addition to our oldest boys. Later on we found out that Zoriana’s sister, Yulia, was still in a state orphanage, and we began to invite her to visit us on weekends. After some time, I noticed that Yulia found it harder and harder to say good-bye to us on Sunday nights, so we took her in as well. Nastya from Kyiv became our tenth child. Two years later the biological mother of our Pavlyk became insistent about having her paren- tal rights reinstated. After some thought, we real- ized that anyone could slip and fall, but no one had the right to take away another person’s chance to start over and correct the mistakes of the past. We met Pavlo’s biological family, spent some time with them and decided to let him come back to his original family. Very soon after that, another girl named Nastya joined our family. She is our youngest today. So you are bringing up ten little ones? They are not that little anymore! Nine of our children go to school, and Nastya, the oldest, is a student at a vocational school. After she grad- uates, she wants to be a social worker to help those in need. Do you remember when each of them first called you “Mom”? Most of them did so almost right away. Every child has a need to address a specific per- son with this word. All of these children have gone through much pain and deprivation. It is very difficult for you and I to imagine the degree of moral and physical suffering experienced by a child who is not under anyone’s real protection. I don’t even want to remember some of those things my children told me about their earlier lives once they became accustomed to us and be- lieved that we would never hurt them, that they
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