'Reindeer' volunteers bring holiday magic to Ukrainian children living on the frontlines

Hopes for victory, a swift end to the war and prayers for their loved ones' survival or return from Russian captivity are among the wishes scattered throughout letters sent to a volunteer group by Ukrainian children living in frontline areas.

While the volunteers, who are named reindeer after the magical beasts that pull Santa’s sleigh, cannot fulfill many of these dreams, they strive to deliver on the simpler ones, such as requests for power banks to help families endure outages, bicycles, books, and even pets.

Every winter, the volunteers travel to heavily damaged cities to deliver gifts and ensure that, despite the war, Ukrainian children can celebrate the holiday season just like their peers around the world.

This year, the group received 2,310 letters, according to project manager Inna Achkasova from the NGO Ukrainian Frontiers, who launched the St. Nicholas’ Reindeers initiative in 2015.

The children’s wishes are published on the project’s website. Donors affectionately known as magicians then choose a letter and buy the requested gift to make that child's dreams come true. The reindeer then deliver those gifts.

“Children are those who have no choice whatsoever. No one asks them whether they want to stay or leave,” says project psychologist Kateryna Shutalova. “What happens to them is never their choice. And this makes them the most vulnerable.”

But every child gets only one childhood, even if it’s shaped by war. That’s why, in their letters, the horrors that have impacted their lives coexist with wishes similar to those of children everywhere.

“My father is in captivity, and I live with my mother and brother,” one boy wrote in his letter. He continued: “I love playing football and practice it professionally. I want a leather football.”

Volunteers sift through all the letters, enduring the tragic stories of each child, to sort and deliver the gifts correctly. Among the writers are children who have lost loved ones to shelling, endured Russian occupation, seen their homes destroyed, have parents serving on the frontlines, or were forced to flee to escape the war.

“What struck me wasn’t their wishes but how deeply children feel the need to tell their stories,” Shutalova says.

Wearing reindeer antlers, the volunteers set out on their journey on Dec. 6, when Ukraine celebrates St. Nicholas Day. Their journey is expected to last until mid-January.

On a frosty morning in Kharkiv, covered by the season’s first snow, a team of volunteers departs in two buses filled with gifts, headed for the formerly Russian-occupied city of Izium, around 55 kilometers (35 miles) from the frontline.

At first, when the celebration has started, the children observe cautiously, their expressions somber, but that mood doesn't last. With each activity, they became more cheerful and engaged.

One of them is 9-year-old Alina Soboleva, who remains detached despite the volunteers’ efforts. She watches the festivities unfold with a quiet gaze. Her grandmother, Svitlana Lokotosh, explains that Alina has been withdrawn since witnessing the deaths of her mother and other grandmother in a shelling in the courtyard of their home.

Alina had been watching through the window as her mother spoke on the phone. When the shell struck, a fragment hit her mother in the neck. Her grandmother rushed outside to help and was killed by another shell.

In her letter, Alina asked for two pet mice. She said it was her dream.

“Our only wish is for peace and quiet,” says Lokotosh, who took Alina in after her mother’s death. “So the children don’t have to be afraid.”

Shutalova explains that parents often find it hard to talk to their children about the war. They’re either afraid, lack the emotional resources, or are overwhelmed by their feelings.

“But for children to process what they’ve been through, they need to talk, play, and express those emotions,” she says.

At the celebration, parents stand against the walls, smiling as their children laugh and play despite having endured so much at such a young age.

Among them is Anna Bolharska, a 32-year-old mother of two. Her father-in-law was killed and her brother-in-law was injured during the occupation. In the spring of 2022, she and her children fled Izium amid relentless shelling, only returning after Ukrainian forces liberated the city in September that year.

“I don’t like to remember those times. We try to move forward because dwelling on it is too hard mentally,” Bolharska says. “We try not to remind the children and to keep them distracted.”

Her 9-year-old daughter, Myroslava Bolharska, dreams of becoming a veterinarian. In her letter, she asked for a guitar.

“During the war it seems everyone’s dreams have changed — to wish for the war to end,” she wrote.

The reindeers' winter journey will take them to over 40 towns in the coming weeks. They hope to realize many dreams and bring joy to the kids, even though some of their wishes are impossible to fulfill.

“Some children wrote in their letters that they want their childhood back,” project co-founder Inna Achkasova says, adding that the reindeer volunteers aim to ensure that every child feels seen, heard and loved.

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Associated Press journalist Hanna Arhirova contributed to this report in Kyiv, Ukraine.

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Follow AP’s coverage of the war in Ukraine at https://apnews.com/hub/russia-ukraine