When people ask why I work for an organization supporting Ukraine despite having no direct family ties to the country, my answer is simple: “You do not need to be part of a specific community to respect human rights and help people in need.” As a Peruvian-American raised in the U.S. who deeply values my own heritage, I know how meaningful community connection is. But empathy doesn’t require a shared background. July marked one year since I joined Hope For Ukraine, and I recently had the opportunity to witness firsthand how our team’s efforts in the U.S. make a tangible difference half a world away.
Before coming to Italy, I sometimes wondered how much of an impact my day-to-day work in the U.S. actually had. I spent seven unforgettable days in Lignano Sabbiadoro, Italy, for Hope For Ukraine’s fourth annual “No Sirens Summer Camp,” which serves hundreds of Ukrainian children affected by the war. Although language was a barrier, it couldn’t hide the smiles that lit up these children’s faces every day.
Many of these children currently reside at our Hope For Ukraine refugee center in Lviv. They receive daily food and shelter from our team after being forced to flee their homes alongside their mothers and siblings while their fathers serve on the frontlines. When you first meet them, you wouldn’t guess this is their reality. But then a sudden, loud noise—like a plane passing overhead—would cause the worry to return to their eyes.
Our days were filled with simple joys: spending hours at the beach, sharing meals, and joining evening workshops rooted in prayer and reflection. Overall, it was a week dedicated to embracing the child inside all of us. At 25, this camp reminded me what it truly means to be a kid. I cannot imagine growing up in a warzone, and hearing the children’s stories—and learning about the circumstances that brought them to us—only deepened my commitment to our mission.
The children ranged from 3 to 16 years old, and their energy had no limits—they spent over six hours at the beach every day! I later learned that back home in Ukraine, going to the beach isn’t an option. Doing so would expose them to missile, drone, and bomber strikes from occupied territories. So, even when the adults were exhausted and ready to go indoors, we kept the fun going. We knew their carefree time was precious and limited, and we wanted to give them every moment possible.
One of my favorite memories was our day trip to Venice. On the bus ride there, the children sang from the back seats, their voices sounding truly angelic. Once we arrived, their excitement was contagious as they explored a new city and captured memories together.
While my time at the camp was brief, the memories will last a lifetime. This experience made the answer to my original question clear. When I told the kids how much Americans care about them, they were overjoyed and deeply grateful to everyone who made this trip possible.
Gabriella Ramirez serves as the External & Donor Relations Manager at Hope For Ukraine, working to bring safety, hope, and support to Ukrainian children and families.