By Ihor Tereshchenko, LHI Ukraine Country Director
As we recently traveled through eastern Ukraine, we saw the truth with our own eyes: the war is escalating. On the eastern front, Russia is gaining new ground daily, pushing aggressively toward the Dnipro region. In some areas, only 5 to 10 kilometers remain before the first villages of that region fall under occupation. This isn’t speculation. It’s reality—visible, measurable, and heart-wrenching.
Only a few weeks ago, the villages in these areas were still pulsating with life. Today they are empty. Most of the villages we visited were home to 400-500 people a month ago, and now only a few dozen remain. The ones left behind are those least able to flee—the elderly, the disabled, the chronically ill. They live on pensions of $20–60 per month. Just getting to the store, if it's open at all, costs about $30, not to mention the groceries themselves. For many, the only choice is to stay and survive with what little they have.
They heat their homes with dead branches and scraps from bombed-out buildings. They drink from rivers laced with fuel and chemicals from military machinery. They grow vegetables under the threat of shelling. They endure. Alone.
In many of these places, the local authorities have no grasp of the situation—the front line is moving too fast. Humanitarian agencies don’t reach these areas. The danger is too high. The infrastructure is gone. The people are invisible.
Except for one group. Ordinary People NGO—our Ukrainian partner—makes the invisible visible. In these villages, they are the only link to the outside world. For this trip, they brought food funded by Giving Machines, clean water from Caritas, hygiene kits, medicine from LHI, and blankets from Wrap the World with Quilts. It’s the end of March, but here, winter still lingers, and the cold bites.
But perhaps the most valuable thing they delivered wasn’t food or medicine. It was hope.
We visited Iskra, a front-line village where Ordinary People had previously distributed aid near a small church. That church—once a beacon of community and comfort—is now rubble. In war-torn villages, churches become more than places of faith. They are gathering points, safe spaces, places where people cling to hope. Now, that place is gone. And with it, for many, the last fragile strand of normalcy.
Still, Ordinary People returned. And here is what I admire most about them—not just their courage, not just their logistical skill, but their humanity.
Where some humanitarian groups chase numbers and headlines, this team puts people first. We've heard stories of others dumping entire trucks of bread in villages of 50 people, only to flee moments later for safety. The bread rots. The people are left with nothing but a memory of being rushed, not helped.
Ordinary People do the opposite. Oleh, Oleh, Yurii, and Dr. Vlad treat each person with the dignity they deserve. At every stop, they don’t just hand out aid — they connect. They talk. They listen. They share stories from the “big world,” remind people what life used to be like, and offer reassurance that it can be that way again.
They help elderly villagers choose the right glasses from donated pairs, laughing with them about how soon they will be able to see their grandchildren's eyes clearly again. They carry heavy boxes of food to battered bicycles and strap them down so they won't fall off during the long ride home. They wrap frail bodies in hand-sewn quilts from Utah and choose the colors with care, with affection.
Every mission ends in hugs. In tears. In promises that peace will come. But until it does, there are people who refuse to abandon the ones caught in the crossfire. People who believe — fiercely, stubbornly — in human decency.
Right now, international funding for Ukraine is drying up. Humanitarian organizations are scaling back. Essentials are becoming scarce.
But Ordinary People hold something more precious than money or logistics. They hold belief — in others, in community, in the worth of every life.
And they share it, every single day.
I’m proud to have joined them on this latest mission into the Donetsk region. Proud to carry boxes, share stories, and stand beside a team that defines what it means to be human in a time of war.