We remember the murdered bakers, the postal workers, the animal shelter volunteers and we say: there will be justice
Before, my wife and I hardly ever ate bread. At least, if we weren’t in the village where we sometimes spend weekends away from our home in Kyiv. The bread we bought in the village was always tastier than the city stuff. In the Ukrainian countryside, there is a long tradition of having plenty of bread on the table and of eating it with butter and salt or dipping it in milk. Bread dipped in fresh cow’s milk was also given to little kids and they loved it.
Since arriving in western Ukraine, where like hundreds of thousands of my fellow countrymen my family has sought relative safety, we find ourselves eating much more bread than before.
