As the conflict in Ukraine continues to escalate, the situation on the ground has become increasingly dire. The frontline resembles a vast game of Pac-Man, with Russian forces advancing on remote agrarian villages where families struggle to survive. For the children in these areas, the reality is a nightmare beyond comprehension. Newly constructed trenches and “dragon teeth”—cable-linked cement blocks designed to halt armored vehicles—form a haunting labyrinth across once-fertile farmlands, now marred by conflict. Bright red signs and flagging warn of fields littered with mines, a constant reminder of the dangers lurking just beyond their homes.
With schools closed and classes only online, a Ukrainian girl takes part in arts and crafts, here making hand prints in the blue and yellow colors of the national flag, in a program supported by UNICEF and the Howard Buffett Foundation, on January 22, 2025, in Izium, Ukraine.
Scott Peterson/Getty Images
On my twelfth visit to Ukraine since the war began in 2022, I witnessed firsthand the resilience of its people. As a co-founder of the nonprofit Common Man for Ukraine, I have traversed the war-torn landscape, delivering essential supplies—food, hygiene items, and small toys during the holidays—to those in need. Our mission extends to providing trauma counseling retreats for children who have lost their fathers in this ongoing conflict.
Our volunteer convoys have covered over 20,000 miles across Ukraine, from Lviv to Kyiv and Odessa to Kherson, reaching even the most remote frontline villages. I have embraced countless children hiding from the threats of kidnapping and bombing, their safety entrusted to hidden safe houses where heartbroken parents hope their children will survive.
In a brief moment of calm, Common Man for Ukraine Co-Founder Susan Mathison (bottom right) sits with children at a safe house in a frontline Ukrainian village in March 2025, after delivering food, clothes, and Beanie Babies.
Photo Courtesy of Common Man for Ukraine
Upon arriving at one frontline village, the air alert sirens pierced the tense atmosphere, signaling imminent danger. Despite the chaos, hundreds of mothers, grandmothers, and children awaited our arrival, hopeful for the food and supplies we brought—messages of hope and solidarity from people they may never meet.
After distributing most of our supplies, I ventured into an abandoned school. The vibrant murals that once adorned the walls now stood as a stark contrast to the desolation surrounding them. The floor sagged beneath a gaping hole in the roof, and the remnants of a child’s toy lay amidst shattered glass. Here, in this hollow shell of a learning environment, I discovered a comic book—a simple yet poignant reminder of the children’s plight. Its illustrations depicted the horrors they face: a bear concealing a bomb, a warning against playing near unexploded ordnance.
With this March 2025 humanitarian supply convoy to Ukraine’s frontline villages, nonprofit Common Man for Ukraine has delivered more than 4 million pounds of food to the children of war. Their 13th convoy is planned for August.
Photo Courtesy of Common Man for Ukraine
Each page of the comic book conveyed the harsh realities faced by children in Ukraine: the dangers of unexploded mines, the constant threat of air raids, and the loss of innocence in a war-torn landscape. These illustrations serve as a testament to the resilience of Ukrainian children, who navigate a world filled with peril yet cling to the hope of a brighter future.
As we prepare for our thirteenth convoy in August, the mission remains clear: to provide aid, support, and a reminder that the world has not forgotten the plight of these children. Every child deserves a story with a happy ending, and it is our responsibility to help them write it.
Susan Mathison co-founded the New England-based grassroots nonprofit CommonManForUkraine.org in 2022, serves as president of her local Habitat for Humanity chapter, and retired after a 30-year career at the USDA Forest Service.
The views expressed in this article are the writer’s own.
