«My child's soul is forever wounded»

Danya is like a Duracell bunny with full batteries. Sitting still is nothing for the seven-year-old. Sometimes he bounces around the room like a rubber ball, then he plays zombie, walks towards Svenja, 8, with long strides and an open mouth, and encourages her brother Thierry, 10, to join in. He talks to his playmate in Ukrainian, who responds in dialect. The children understand each other, even if they don't speak the same language. «Since we've been here, Danya no longer has time to be sad. I'm incredibly grateful for that,» says his mum Ludmila.

The boy only sits at the table briefly to eat. Ludmila and her friends Lena and Inna got up at five o'clock to cook a Ukrainian borscht soup. A new group of refugees has just arrived in the community and they are to be greeted with a familiar lunch. Danya, his mother and her two friends, as well as Lena's son Radion, 12, have been living with the Müller family for a good two weeks. He comes from Vasylkiv, a town of 37,000 inhabitants a good thirty kilometres south of Kiev. When the first shots were fired, the family hid in the bomb shelter. «We only left it to get food,» says Ludmila. The decision to leave her home was not an easy one, says the art teacher. «But my husband and I decided together that our son should be safe. That's the most important thing.» For Danya, it was incomprehensible that his dad could not accompany her. What did she say to him? «His father is a hero and has to defend his country. And he can do that better if he knows that we are safe.» They keep in touch as best they can. «Sometimes his mobile phone works, sometimes it doesn't.»

«Mum, I want to live.» This sentence from her 12-year-old son Radion persuaded fitness trainer Lena to leave the bomb shelter. Together, Lena, Ludmila and Inna made their way to the Polish border with the two boys and their dog Major. There they met Remo Schmid, a Zurich entrepreneur and «Prix Courage» winner, who transported goods to the Ukrainian border as a private helper and took the five fugitives back to Switzerland. Lena didn't know that the country even existed. «It's so small!» The friendliness and warmth with which they were welcomed here brought tears to her eyes. For Mirjam Müller, whose family they are staying with, this is a matter of course.

The Müllers communicated their offer of accommodation to the parish, which forwarded it to the relevant office at the canton of Zurich. «We would also be happy for help if we needed it,» says the carer. It is important to realise that it is not enough to simply provide the space. «These people find themselves in a foreign country from one day to the next, they don't know the customs or the language, and some of them can't even read our writing.» Everyday things like shopping, cooking and finding your way around the neighbourhood become a huge challenge. Then there are the visits to the authorities to get registered. And the little things that nobody expects. For example, the snow. The children only have light trainers with them, they need other footwear. But where from? And how? The financial resources of most refugees are limited, and host families often help out. Mirjam understands when this becomes too much for a host family after a while. «The effort is often underestimated. But we haven't regretted it for a second. Living together with people from a different culture is a huge added value for us as a family. I think our children have already learnt a lot in the last few weeks.»

Danya has finished his soup and jumps off his chair. The nasty weather is getting on his nerves. If the sun was shining, he would be playing football or jumping on the trampoline with Louis, 12, Thierry, 10, Svenja, 8, and Léa, 5, and their friends and cousins. And at 8 p.m., when the four Müller children have to go to bed, he also retires, even though he doesn't have to. Danya and Radion say «thank you» and «please» - they can already say these words in German - clear their plates voluntarily and help around the house. «They are a really good role model for our children,» says Mirjam Müller with a laugh as she watches Danya trying to explain a game to Louis and Thierry with the help of Google Translate. «He's at an age where he still sees it all in a playful way, luckily,» says Mirjam. Almost a bit like in the film «La vita è bella», in which a father who is interned with his son in a concentration camp during the Second World War tells him that this is a game and that you have to play as well as possible in order to win.

Radion is a little different. «He's no longer a small child, he understands everything. The sirens, the flight, the danger his father is in,» says his mum Lena. Even if Radion is not always as quiet as he is today - «he often laughs loudly at football or when playing with the younger ones», says Mirjam Müller - the hood constantly pulled down over his face, the shy smile, the keenly observant gaze show that the experience has left deep scars on the twelve-year-old. «This war has wounded my child's soul forever. Not just his, but that of all Ukrainians,» says Lena. «But God sees everything. And he will provide justice one day.» She said the same thing to her son.

If it were up to Danya, he would see to this justice himself. In the evening, the little whirlwind calms down, sits down and draws. Always the same subjects. Weapons that execute a man. Vladimir Putin. «I would if I could,» says Danya. And: «It's unjust. Many children have died. I'm alive.» This war is not a game. It is bitterly serious. And Danya knows that. Even if he doesn't realise it in the same way as the older Radion or the adults. Ludmila has already asked for psychological counselling for her son and they are on a waiting list.

As soon as all the bureaucratic paperwork has been finalised, Danya will go to school. It will probably be after the spring holidays. Radion's school in Ukraine is currently still offering online lessons, which the sixth-grader is taking part in. Lena has not yet decided whether she wants to send him to school here. She actually only wants one thing: to return home as quickly as possible. But she realises that this could take a long time. And that things at home will never be the same again. Ludmila knows that too. «You know,» she says, «I could never relate to the concept of world peace. Now I do. It would mean that my child would no longer have to be afraid.»