For those of us who are living in America, we tend to think of our ourselves as living pretty normal lives, with a normal daily routine. Here, most adults haven’t ever even heard the sounds of air raid sirens or watched the night skies filled with missiles and drones. We have never had to run for the “safest place” from the exploding bombs that drop from the sky.

This makes it difficult for us to completely understand what that must feel like. For children in Ukraine, this has become their normal. Even the youngest of lives now know all too well about the things that we have never had to face. What should be the most carefree times in these children’s lives has turned into the most worrisome times of the tragedy of war. The stress that has been placed upon these young children is beyond comprehension.

SGA-supported Summer Bible Camps represent a different “normal” that so many children are longing for. They offer an escape from their “daily routine” of sirens and drones, to the much hoped for “normalcy” of what childhood memories should hold. Please pray for the many summer camps taking place this year, and that the children will experience true peace that only comes from Jesus, their Savior.

SGA Storyteller Angela in Ukraine talked with two of these children. Here is their story . . .

Eight-year-old Ethan remembers helicopters. One of his earliest memories is visiting a friend with his father who flew them. “Now nobody can fly helicopters,” he says matter-of-factly. His younger sister Eva remembers something entirely different. “I remember biting Ethan on the back,” she says, laughing. They are ordinary childhood memories. But Ethan and Eva are part of an un-ordinary generation: a generation of Ukrainian children whose childhood has unfolded during war.
 
 When the full-scale invasion was launched in 2022, Ethan was four years old. Eva was two. Today they are preparing for summer camp while growing up in a country where air raid sirens and explosions from missiles and drones have become part of daily life. Both children know exactly what an air raid alert sounds like. “It goes off all the time,” Ethan says. Eva hears them at home and at daycare. When sirens sound during school, Ethan sometimes spends entire days studying in a shelter. Eva recently had her kindergarten graduation interrupted three separate times within a single hour as parents, teachers, and children were forced to move to safety.
 
They also know things many children elsewhere never need to learn. Ethan knows how to turn on the family’s backup power system during outages. Both children know where the safest places are inside their home. For Ethan, it is the parking garage. For Eva, it is the bathroom because there are no windows.
 
Their parents, Vlad and Zhanna, sometimes find themselves surprised by what their children consider normal. One day Ethan was asked to draw his dream home for a school project.
He drew a house. A tree. His family. And an airplane in the sky. When his parents asked about it, Ethan explained: “It’s our country’s airplane.” For Vlad and Zhanna, it was a reminder that their son is growing up in a world very different from the one they knew as children. Their children can identify the sounds of Shahed drones, air defense systems, and missile attacks. They know about mine safety. They understand shelters, blackouts, and emergency procedures. “War is not normal,” Zhanna says. “But for many children, it has become normal.”
 
Yet despite everything they have experienced, Ethan and Eva are still children. Ask them what they are looking forward to most this summer, and their answers are refreshingly simple. “The games,” says Ethan. “Games, friends, sweets, and the camp store,” Eva adds. When asked what would make a perfect day, Ethan doesn’t hesitate. “Being at camp.” Their parents understand why. Children across Ukraine carry stress that often goes unseen. Nighttime attacks, sirens, explosions, and uncertainty slowly accumulate, even when families learn to live with them. But camp offers something different—for a few days, children can put down those burdens and simply be children. They laugh. They run. They make friends. They hear Bible stories. They learn about a Savior who loves them. “At camp they feel accepted,” Vlad says. “They can relax.”
 
That is why summer children’s ministries remain so important across Ukraine. For children like Ethan and Eva—the first generation growing up entirely in wartime—camp is more than a week of activities. It is a reminder that childhood has not disappeared. For a few precious days, they are not thinking about shelters, drones, or explosions. They are memorizing Bible verses, making friends, playing games, and learning that Jesus knows their fears and walks with them through them. For an un-ordinary generation whose earliest memories are marked by war, something like summer camp becomes a glimpse of the childhood they were always meant to have.

 When the full-scale invasion was launched in 2022, Ethan was four years old. Eva was two. Today they are preparing for summer camp while growing up in a country where air raid sirens and explosions from missiles and drones have become part of daily life. Both children know exactly what an air raid alert sounds like. “It goes off all the time,” Ethan says. Eva hears them at home and at daycare. When sirens sound during school, Ethan sometimes spends entire days studying in a shelter. Eva recently had her kindergarten graduation interrupted three separate times within a single hour as parents, teachers, and children were forced to move to safety.

They also know things many children elsewhere never need to learn. Ethan knows how to turn on the family’s backup power system during outages. Both children know where the safest places are inside their home. For Ethan, it is the parking garage. For Eva, it is the bathroom because there are no windows.

Their parents, Vlad and Zhanna, sometimes find themselves surprised by what their children consider normal. One day Ethan was asked to draw his dream home for a school project. He drew a house. A tree. His family. And an airplane in the sky. When his parents asked about it, Ethan explained: “It’s our country’s airplane.” For Vlad and Zhanna, it was a reminder that their son is growing up in a world very different from the one they knew as children. Their children can identify the sounds of Shahed drones, air defense systems, and missile attacks. They know about mine safety. They understand shelters, blackouts, and emergency procedures. “War is not normal,” Zhanna says. “But for many children, it has become normal.”

Yet despite everything they have experienced, Ethan and Eva are still children. Ask them what they are looking forward to most this summer, and their answers are refreshingly simple. “The games,” says Ethan. “Games, friends, sweets, and the camp store,” Eva adds. When asked what would make a perfect day, Ethan doesn’t hesitate. “Being at camp.” Their parents understand why. Children across Ukraine carry stress that often goes unseen. Nighttime attacks, sirens, explosions, and uncertainty slowly accumulate, even when families learn to live with them. But camp offers something different—for a few days, children can put down those burdens and simply be children. They laugh. They run. They make friends. They hear Bible stories. They learn about a Savior who loves them. “At camp they feel accepted,” Vlad says. “They can relax.”

That is why summer children’s ministries remain so important across Ukraine. For children like Ethan and Eva—the first generation growing up entirely in wartime—camp is more than a week of activities. It is a reminder that childhood has not disappeared. For a few precious days, they are not thinking about shelters, drones, or explosions. They are memorizing Bible verses, making friends, playing games, and learning that Jesus knows their fears and walks with them through them. For an un-ordinary generation whose earliest memories are marked by war, something like summer camp becomes a glimpse of the childhood they were always meant to have.