With Love to Ukraine

Two decades ago, my husband and I brought home a beautiful boy, born in Kazakstan. While there, we depended on our translator Elena to help us maneuver our way through unfamiliar streets and foreign attitudes. Elena was smart and beautiful. Extraordinarily helpful and kind. But unlike many of the locals, Elena was always smiling. I asked her why so few others did. 

    Some people think Americans are goofy because they smile at strangers, she explained. But that's because you are not afraid to trust. It is different here.  

    Having both grown up during the Cold War, we agreed that fear had caused us to misjudge the intentions of those perceived as our enemy.  We marveled at how, at one time, each of us would have been scared of the other. But while my personality was shaped by an open society, Elena and her family and friends were influenced by a highly restrictive one. It is not always easy to adapt, I learned.

Elena and I agreed that we would never again pass judgement on another based on the policy of our respective governments. This week, Arnold Schwarzenegger expressed a similar desire.  Throughout the globe, families live, work and do their best to offer their children a good life. This includes Russians being fed propaganda and Americans echoing the same misinformation. It includes people from every war torn corner of the globe. 

Decades ago, Elena and I dared to hope that my child, like all  children born in one place and raised in another would grow up to be ambassadors of peace between nations. 

My voice isn't as loud as Arnold's but I wish it were.  I hope his message seeps through Russia's thickening walls of isolation and that those afraid to stand up to Putin realize that the bully never wins. I  hope those Americans echoing and reinforcing Putin's lies will recognize that truth always triumphs. 

Most of all I wish our tortured planet would learn from its mistakes. Most of all I wish Ukraine peace.