In Ukraine, reminders of a cruel, unyielding war are everywhere. Visiting cities like Kyiv, Bucha, and Lviv, it is impossible to ignore the scars left by unthinkable violence.

I arrived in Ukraine with Archbishop William Lori, Archbishop of Baltimore and Supreme Chaplain of the Knights of Columbus, and Szymon Czyszek, Director of International Growth in Europe for the Knights of Columbus, and every moment spent among these communities revealed stories that often go unheard, cries that risk being drowned out by the world’s shifting attentions.

The reality of Ukraine’s suffering is stark, and the resilience of its people is profound; both demand not only our admiration but our continued support and attention.

Our first stop was Kyiv, where we gathered for Mass at the Cathedral of St. Alexander of Kyiv. Archbishop Lori concelebrated Mass with Bishop Vitalii Kryvytskyi, Bishop Mykhaylo Bubniy, and Archbishop Visvaldas Kulbokas, the Apostolic Nuncio to Ukraine.

For Ukrainians, the Church serves as more than just a place of worship; it is a sanctuary in a very real sense. War has woven itself into the daily lives of every Ukrainian, many of whom have lost loved ones. I observed faces etched with sorrow but not despair—a testament to a nation still rooted in hope.

In Bucha, however, the reality of this war hit me hardest. Just outside the city lies the site of a destroyed bridge; charred cars and bombed-out buildings stand as grim reminders of an attempted exodus that, for many, ended in tragedy.

As we stood in silence at these sites, acknowledging the suffering of a city that has been marked by horror, it felt as though the land itself mourned.

We visited the site where eight men were tortured and massacred and later, we met some of their children, young faces who now carry not just memories but legacies of grief.

At a coat distribution organized by the Knights of Columbus, these children received small gifts, and their smiles amid so much hardship were a powerful reminder of the resilience that even the youngest Ukrainians possess.

Our journey in Bucha continued to a mass grave memorial at Andrew the Apostle Church. The beautiful memorial was erected to remember the countless lives lost, turning a site of unimaginable suffering into a place of remembrance. Memorials of remembrance, scattered throughout the country, speak to Ukraine’s enduring strength, a determination to honor the dead and to rebuild despite overwhelming loss.

But the weight of war isn’t only in these quiet memorials. It is alive in the stories of everyday people we met.

Back in Kyiv, Archbishop Lori listened to widows share their stories of loss, uncertainty, and hardship. When asked what help was needed, the request repeatedly heard was “Remember us. Tell our story.”

This request is a reminder that as much as many Ukrainians need basic necessities such as shelter, food, and medical attention, they also need their stories to be heard and remembered.

In Lviv, we visited a cemetery of fallen soldiers, an ambulance bound for Odessa was gifted and blessed, and we visited modular housing units built for Internally Displaced Persons, each unit representing a family forced to flee their home.

Despite the challenging conditions, these families greeted us with hospitality, proudly showing us their new homes and surroundings. Finally, the Archbishop met with over sixty Knights of Columbus priest chaplains who continue to minister under circumstances most of us could never imagine.

While headlines may fade, Ukraine’s need does not. The war’s physical toll is immense, but the emotional toll—the grief, the fear, the uncertainty—is often harder to grasp. There was evidence of this at every turn.

But if there is one message I wish to convey, it is this: Ukraine’s people have not given up. They continue to rebuild, to hope and to live with a strength that defies explanation.

They need to be assured of our continued support, organizations like the Knights of Columbus and the Caritas Ukraine are doing vital work, but they rely on global awareness and support to keep going.

We cannot let the plight of Ukraine become just another forgotten crisis. The people here are not only surviving—they are showing us what true resilience looks like.

They ask for nothing more than to be remembered, for their courage to be acknowledged, and for the world to stand with them as they rebuild.

As I leave Ukraine, the images of these people will be forever etched in my memory. Their faces and stories have left an indelible mark on my heart.

My prayer is that their stories will reach the hearts of many, and that their resilience will inspire not just sympathy but action. Let us not forget Ukraine.