The Second World War. 1944 Bulgaria.

To find at least some kind of home and money for living, you had to leave your native country - Ukraine - and return for some time to Bulgaria - your second home on your father’s side. Your mother died during shelling at the beginning of the war; she did not survive. And your father was a Bulgarian according to his documents, so you left on time. You had to go through a lot on your own, your father worked a lot...

Having found refuge in a camp in Bulgaria for children who were from single-parent families or were generally orphans, you learned that the organizers offered you a job - to be a counselor and look after the younger ones. You agreed and from then on lived at the camp as if on your own.

Walking the streets of the Bulgarian city, where your camp was not far away, you heard a familiar Ukrainian accent - the awkward voice of a young guy trying to explain something to the older Bulgarians. "Sorry! Sorry! I was just mistaken.” The Bulgarians looked at the Ukrainian with negativity and growled at him in their rough language. It seems the guy crossed their path...

It was Evgeniy - he was slightly older than you and was the same counselor only in a different detachment. You made eye contact with him several times, but he always timidly moved away. Afendik knows your story and has supported you very often.