Kyiv – I was in St. Sophia Square today. I came there simply to stay for a while: to see how many people came, to look in the faces and eyes, and feel the Spirit of Ukraine, the Maidan, time and my people. Walking there, I saw that people were heading back already: it was 4 p.m., the meeting was about to end. People were going in groups: companies, families. Exchanging words, sharing impressions. Their faces were peaceful and luminous. At first it seemed to me that there was too little elevation, activeness, opposition.
I came up to the light triangle of St. Sophia Square: people, flags, a stage with speakers. Everything was so organic here, near the ancient temple. I suppose that this time Sophia will unite us — no wonder people came to her today. Because exactly there lies that ineradicable Spirit of my land, it is where the Spirit of Ukraine lives. The Spirit which made the legendary monument to the founders of my native city — Kyi, Shchek and Khoryv — fall down in sacrifice near the Dnipro. The Spirit which closed the door before the impudent bumpkin who called himself the first figure in the state. The Spirit which in anger threw a fir-tree wreath at him and on the Dnipro slopes desperately whipped with cold rain those who came to our land to tell us how to live, in what to believe, whom to pray to and in what language to sing songs.
From the stage one could hear already habitual speeches of politicians now in the opposition, and not long ago in government. I didn’t listen since I came not to them. I looked in the faces of people: calm, bright and confident in what they know and do. And hundreds of other eyes were looking back at me as if asking: “So, are you ready?” We came to Sophia to feel that we ARE READY. Ready to act, stand to the last man, fight, maintain. WE ARE READY.
I found my mother. Happy and flushed, she came up from the stage — she was in a good mood. Because she came to the meeting from the village and her hopes were justified.
I once again quickly looked at people’s heads. Focused on three grey-haired men of my father’s age. Like old Ukrainian oaks. One of them was standing without a hat, and another, on the contrary, pulled it over his eyes. They were radiating such Power! “The old men like these have nothing to lose. They will fight to the last drop. They will help us find and obtain the most important thing,” I thought.
Flags were flying over heads: blue, white, red, three-color ones, many different hues. They were speaking on stage. But all that was a background. People came to get something else — they wanted the Spirit of Saint Sophia (Mother Wisdom) to descend on them and give them Power, Confidence, Faith and Hope. And they felt it because they were smiling to one another, speaking in low voices but very confidently and calmly. And in the same way, without rush, they started breaking up. And everyone was carrying Vivacity in their souls, which they will put in a lucid corner of their dwelling, next to the icons, embroidered towels, books, pictures of parents and grandparents.
Thus, WE ARE READY.
