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A Story of the Ukrainian Spirit

As you probably know from my previous posts, my 2021 Ukrainian stamps have not arrived yet.

I have been working with the seller (who I totally trust), and we agreed that if I did not get my stamps by the end of February, he would send me a new set.

So here we are, one week before the end of the month and no stamps. And then the Fire Nation, I mean, Putin attacked. At this point, I don’t care about the stamps any more. I want the guy and his wife to be safe. He lives in Kyiv. I just want to know that the guy is OK.

I sit down a half hour ago to send him an email which I assume he won’t get, but I have to try.

And I get an email from him. He tells me that he and his wife fled Kyiv last night and are heading West. He was emailing me to tell me my stamps arrived at JFK Airport this morning.

This guy is in a war zone, fleeing for his life, but he still takes time out to check my order and let me know that it finally arrived.

I have no words…

So when this mess is over, and you need Ukrainian stamps, buy them from BeeUkrainian on eBay.

6 replies on “A Story of the Ukrainian Spirit”

this had me in tears… I’ve ordered from them for my mom (I’m a beekeeper, I loved the name)
I wish there was a way to reach out and give them some help. I’m not even sure we will be able to buy from them in the future, you cant use Paypal or credit cards in Crimea … and this may be true of Ukraine in the near future 🙁

I emailed him back and asked him if I could send him money some way. I have not gotten an email back. The package that arrived had a phone number, so I texted the number with a picture of the package and again asked if there was some way I could get money to him. I think the text went through, but I did not get a response. But I think the text went through.

My mom is from Halychyna! she came to the states with my grandmother shortly after the war. I was hoping to visit one day . I have hope but it’s fading.

My dad is from a town called Yaniv, which is now called Ivano-Frankove. My mom is from a small town called Sydova-Vyshnia. They both fled Ukraine during WWII. My dad was a teenager, and my mom was a toddler. The stories my dad tells amaze me. I can’t imagine walking through war torn Europe as pre-teen/teenager avoiding allied bombing runs. My parents aren’t talking about what’s going on now probably because it’s bringing back some bad memories.

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