by Walter Kish

This is that time of year again when I lean on my brother and sister to dig out their cheque books and contribute to my private version of the Ukraine Fund. My parents, when they were alive, always strove at Christmas time to send a little something to their brothers and sisters back in Ukraine. They considered themselves incredibly fortunate to have been given the opportunity to start a new life in a country like Canada, and to have escaped the misery and oppression that their not so fortunate relations back in Ukraine had been forced to endure. Even though for most of their lives here they were never financially well off, they never forgot their distant siblings. On a regular basis, a care package or two would slowly wind its way by parcel post back to the “selo” where the rest of the Kish’s and the Gerun’s eked out a difficult existence.

As a youngster, I was but dimly aware of these small acts of charity, knowing only that my outgrown clothes were being dispatched to serve second duty on one of the dozens of cousins I had “over there”. We would occasionally receive pictures and though I knew that those grim faces staring back at me were family, I could never at the time make any kind of emotional connection. The background, the expressions, the clothes, and even the awkward formal style of prose in which they tended to write seemed so foreign and distant from my own life and experiences. They were living a “third world” life and I naively and unfairly ascribed to them a “third world” degree of inferiority. As adolescents, it is common psychological practice to associate with the “in group” and distance ourselves from the “have nots” and the disadvantaged.

It was only when I was finally able to visit Ukraine as an adult that all those “foreign” cousins finally became real people. In retrospect, I should not have been surprised to find out that in all essential respects they were not much different from myself or my siblings here in Canada. Most of them were intelligent, cultured, warm and generous. They had much the same dreams, hopes and ambitions. They were real people with real thoughts and emotions, and not the caricatures that I had conveniently pictured them to be. The only real difference was that I had had the good fortune to have been born in a country where I could realize my full potential, whereas they had the misfortune of being born into a corrupt and oppressive society that placed little value on their individuality or freedom.

Over the course of time, I formed some deep friendships with these distant cousins. They were friendships based not so much on formal family ties, but rather on a mutual respect and meeting of the minds between individuals who share common values, interests and desires. As I discovered, we may have been separated geographically and economically, but not intellectually, emotionally or spiritually.

So now on a regular basis, with the assistance of my brother and sister, I make an effort to help all those distant “friends” who also happen to be family. It is not spurred by any particular feelings of guilt over my own financial well-being in contrast to their poverty or lack of opportunity. I also do not view this particularly as an act of charity or magnanimity. They are no more responsible for their poverty than I am for my wealth.

Reality is what it is, and I just happen to be in a position where I can make a significant positive difference to someone else’s life with but a little effort on my part. Fifty dollars here in Canada will buy me a modest dinner for two. The same amount in Ukraine represents more than a month’s average wage. Sending someone in Ukraine that amount would be the equivalent of someone handing you two or three thousand dollars here in Canada.

The bottom line is that most Ukrainians are having a difficult time coping with the economic dislocation and restructuring that is going on in their country. No doubt, most will survive somehow as they have done for centuries. However, we Ukrainians here in Canada have both the ability and the opportunity to make a big difference in the lives of specific individuals over there. Our modest assistance can make a huge difference. It can literally change lives and create a future for real human beings.