Sometimes you experience the most special things when you least expect it. I spent way too much time watching the war in Ukraine. The chaos and destruction is heartbreaking. It is heartbreaking to see women fleeing their country with only the basic necessities to carry, some with toddlers on the hip, knowing they will probably never return to what was once home. I have realized that we cannot imagine the reality of the horrors of war. But on Sunday I was unexpectedly and very suddenly thrown into a war zone. Or so…
Sometimes you experience the most special things when you least expect it.
I spent way too much time watching the war in Ukraine. The chaos and destruction is heartbreaking. It is heartbreaking to see women fleeing their country with only the basic necessities to carry, some with toddlers on the hip, knowing they will probably never return to what was once home. I have realized that we cannot imagine the reality of the horrors of war.
But on Sunday I was unexpectedly and very suddenly thrown into a war zone. Or so it felt. My little Olive was baptized and for the first time in my life I entered the mother’s room of our church. Chaos and pandemonium is putting it mildly.
In the less than 30 minutes I spent on the front lines, I was confronted by a mother who had to play nurse after her son inflicted a head injury on himself with a bright red and yellow plastic truck.
Slightly suffering from hemophobia (the fear of blood), I felt an urge to flee, but retreat is not in my vocabulary. After all, I am also a veteran of conscription.
ALSO READ: International Women’s Day: 5 ways women can protect their health
While the wounded soldier was being cared for, other mothers were forced into peace talks as two small, ruffle-clad girls competed for the same tea set. Then, without warning, we all fell victim to a diaper-type chemical explosion, with no gas mask in sight. And no, Covid masks don’t help. If anything, they make it worse.
All this happened with the continuous and unabated deafening jingle of what I imagine an air-raid siren sounding. Who knew two babies could have such shrill voices?
Fortunately, I was relieved of my duty for further attacks, and enjoyed some R&R (rest and recovery) in my car to the soothing music of Guns N’ Roses.
I realized again that, whether in peacetime or war, it is the women who inevitably serve on the front lines and carry the heaviest burden.
So, om Ladies everywhere, whether in a church in Krugersdorp or in Kiev, I greet you.