Stand with us at the construction site in Velyki Lazy, where something remarkable is taking shape.
You can see it rising from the earth—concrete foundation laid strong in October, floor poured smooth and level. Now, as November unfolds, you’re watching the skeleton of hope take form. The frame is going up. The roof will follow. Each beam raised is a promise kept.
Walk through the blueprint with us. On the first floor, you’ll find warmth: a common kitchen where families will gather, aromas of borscht and fresh bread mingling as mothers cook side by side, sharing recipes and stories. The living room will echo with children’s laughter and the quiet conversations of healing. A laundry room—such a simple thing, yet how it speaks of normalcy returning, of daily life beginning again.
Four ground-floor apartments are designed specifically for families caring for loved ones with disabilities. You understand why: the growing numbers of wounded veterans need homes where wheelchairs can roll freely, where shattered bodies can heal surrounded by love, where heroes broken by this Russian genocide can rebuild their lives.
Climb the stairs to the second floor. Six more apartments await families who’ve lost everything but each other. Picture them: ten families total—perhaps fifty souls—who fled their homes with only what they could carry. They left behind photo albums, grandmothers’ quilts, children’s toys, entire lifetimes.
But you’re helping give them something irreplaceable: sanctuary.
This is happening because of a generous UMCOR grant, yes. But it’s happening because you care. Because you believe displaced families deserve more than temporary shelter—they deserve home. Because you refuse to let Putin’s war steal not just their land, but their future.
The walls are rising. Can you see them? By the time winter settles in, these walls will stand against the cold. By spring, families will move in. Children will claim bedrooms, hang posters, dream dreams again.
You’re part of this. Every prayer, every share, every dollar, every ounce of attention you give this cause—you’re raising these walls with us.
Ten families. One building. Countless fresh starts.
This is how we fight genocide: one apartment at a time, one family at a time, one future at a time.
Stand with us. The foundation is laid. The frame is rising.
Together, we’re building more than shelter.
We’re building hope.
