Greeting you this holiday season....
Yesterday, while making year-end charitable contributions, I faced a challenge: where to send money for Ukraine? I want the funds immediately to reach people in the midst of
that war, but scams abound. And super-sized organizations already have fund-raising machines that both cost and
generate a boatload of money. ***January Update: Our due diligence regarding Ukraine TrustChain [refers to the human network of trust, not block chain technology] resulted in a significant donation on our part, and from many of you. Here is a link to their latest newsletter. See more commentary following the poem.***
And then today I received my daily-poem email from Rattle, which I now share with you as part of this holiday message because,
as I state at the top of this post, I truly believe in the power of poetry to
move us to compassion and action. Please visit Rattle for the full December 25, 2022 post from which this message is shared. I am posting it here with full credit to them and gratitude for their publication of this poem.
It's my hope that 2023 find its way to a healthier, more peaceful world. Here’s to Poetry. Here’s to Ukraine. Here’s to you, dear ones. Shalom.
With love, Andi*
THE UKRAINIAN FLAG STARES THROUGH THE BALSAM FIR FROM LARRY’S TREES
Julia Kolchinsky Dasbach
just take it he said & I doubted
generosity are you sure? still $30 short
I’ve learned nothing is free
in this country his
white mustache curled
to a
smile I’m Larry & this
is the south & these are my trees
how easy to claim what soil gives
to own trees & bodies
to give them away to
strangers
so my children can hang
the shatterproof ornaments & ask for more
light while in Ukraine
the bulbs won’t spark the heat
won’t radiate the soil
will stay
snow-covered & theirs &
in my house strings & strings
of electric
rainbow dazzle
trail the evergreen & walls & wind
my children’s small limbs
here
in Arkansas it’s barely cold
enough to light a fire
but we can & do with oak
&
crabapple we home
its added glow so everything
smells of invited smoke & pine
not invaded smoking sky where
the windows flicker with candlelight
& shellings &
tomorrow
I will bake gingerbread & fry latkes
& light the candles
forbidden in
my Soviet childhood
tomorrow I will pray
to a god I don’t believe in
for more
miracle tomorrow
I will still have been born
from darkness & wick & tonight
when
I lift my daughter
to place the silver star on the highest branch
& my American
mother—
in-law takes a photo
the only light will be the yellow—
blue horizon of
the flag
frozen in the window behind us
The Poet’s Comment
“The missiles
continue to fall on Ukraine. Millions
lose power and heat and even water. It is well below freezing all across the
country. On Christmas Eve, when many families in the US and around the world
gather around a tree decorated by hundreds of lights, in my birthplace, Ukraine,
this day will mark ten months of brutal, full-scale war. It is too easy to grow
used to the barrage of terrible news, too easy to forget that during this time
of celebration, suffering continues. If you are able, consider contributing to
an aid organization that helps those who are in Ukraine and refugees trying to
flee. I recommend
Ukraine TrustChain, an all volunteer-run nonprofit started by
Ukrainian immigrants in the US, they work with local volunteers on the ground,
going directly into areas hard to reach by larger international organizations.
TrustChain provides urgent food, medical supplies, and transportation to safer
regions.” (
web)
Julia Kolchinsky Dasbach
