An Open Letter To The Ukrainian Baby In The Park

Summary

A woman reflects on her encounter with a Ukrainian toddler and her dog in the park, contemplating the stark contrast between the child's current safety and the plight of children in Ukraine due to the Russian invasion.

Abstract

The author recounts a heartwarming and poignant meeting with a Ukrainian baby in the park, where her dog Rudy and the child quickly became friends. She describes the child's innocent interaction with Rudy, using the Ukrainian word for dog, "sobaka," which stirred a mix of joy and sorrow in her. The author is grateful for the child's safety in contrast to the harsh realities faced by children in Ukraine, and she is reminded of the global disparities in safety and comfort due to war. The encounter prompts her to acknowledge the privilege of living without the threat of conflict and the importance of empathy for those affected by it.

Opinions

The author feels a deep emotional connection to the Ukrainian baby, empathizing with the child's potential experience of war had they been in Ukraine.
She expresses gratitude for the safety and security of the child and her mother in their current environment, away from the war in Ukraine.
The author is saddened by the thought of children enduring the hardships of war, particularly those in Ukraine, and holds a negative view of the aggressor responsible for the conflict.
She values the innocence of childhood and believes that all children should have the opportunity to experience joyful, carefree moments, such as playing with a puppy in the park.
The author is introspective about her own comfortable life and recognizes the importance of being aware of and concerned about the suffering of others in less fortunate circumstances.

You Warmed My Heart And Broke It Too

Hey Little Fella,

Do you remember me? I’m the lady with the big puppy from the park. We met yesterday and you and my puppy, Rudy, became fast friends.

Rudy at the park: Photo Courtesy of the author

I saw you and your mommy walking in the park, heading toward the playground. So did Rudy. And he made a beeline straight for you. You see, Rudy is a baby too, and he loves to play with other babies.

I remember being very careful as your mommy allowed you to approach Rudy while I held his leash tight. You kept saying something I couldn’t understand. I told you Rudy was a doggie, but you kept saying sobaka (I’m spelling it the way it sounded).

Your mommy explained that what you were saying was the Ukrainian word for dog and in that moment, my heart filled with joy and broke all at the same time.

I looked into your little face. You couldn’t have been more than 18 months old. Big innocent blue eyes, soft blonde hair peeking out from underneath the winter had and hood of your snowsuit, happily petting my Rudy and cooing “sobaka, sobaka.” So innocent, such a routine interaction. So safe. A normal day in the life of a normal baby.

I didn’t say anything to your mommy while we talked; I didn’t want to make her sad. I’m sure she worries enough about what’s happening in her native land, but all I could think about is how glad I was, and am, that you and your mommy are here. You’re here and you’re safe.

You don’t have to walk for endless miles to escape the Russian invasion. You don’t have to wake up to air raid sirens. You fall asleep in your bed every night and wake up warm and safe. And I’m so very thankful for that.

I thought briefly about how, if things had been different, you could have been there, terrified, cold and hungry, not really understanding why or how your entire world got turned upside down.

Then I thought about all the sweet babies, just like you that are going through exactly that. Sweet babies that did nothing wrong, whose mommies and daddies did nothing wrong, but still have to endure the horrors of war because some self-aggrandizing, egomaniacal narcissist in another country wants to make his mark in the history books. It was almost too much.

You didn’t see my tears. Neither did your mommy. Like I said before, I didn’t want to make her cry. I’m sure she’s doing enough of that when you’re not there to see.

I hope Rudy and I see you again. You can play with him any time. He fell in love with you as much as I did. You reminded me to look past myself and my reality. You reminded me that while I live my comfy, safe life, lots of people aren’t so lucky because a very bad man is doing some very bad things.

You reminded me that all babies should get to go to the park and play with puppies.

From,

Rudy’s Human From The Park