In the hours leading up to Christmas, children across the world spend hours dreaming. They write letters, make lists and think about the holiday ahead.
In Ukraine, children who have lost a parent to the war do the same. Written during a prolonged war marked by shelling, power cuts, and disrupted schooling, these Christmas wishes focus less on celebration - and more on practical everyday needs.
A cat's only comfort
One of those letters came from Maksym, 13. He lives in Nikopol, a southern Ukrainian city five kilometres from the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant. For more than two years, shelling has been part of daily life there. Sirens interrupt lessons. Explosions are heard at night. School takes place online, through a screen.
Many of Maksym’s classmates have left the city. Some moved away with their families. Others stopped logging in. The classroom still exists, but fewer names appear on the screen now. When he is not studying online, Maksym spends most of his time at home with his cat, Asya. In his Christmas letter, he writes:
“I do not have any offline communication with friends, but there is my favourite cat Asya. She is the only thing that brings me happiness. I want to ask you to bring some cat food for my kitty - and some sweets for me”.
Maksym is not the only child whose Christmas letter reflects a life shaped by silent abandonment. Across Ukraine, children who have lost a parent or are still waiting for answers put similar realities into words, each in their own way.
Gluten-free happiness
Nastya, 10, lives with her mother in a small Ukrainian town. Her father has been missing in action for a long time. There was no single moment that marked his disappearance. Instead, months of waiting, unanswered questions and silence shaped her everyday life.
As if the uncertainty wasn’t enough, constant stress took another toll on Nastya’s well-being. She has been diagnosed with a heart condition and an autoimmune disease. Her disability requires regular medical examinations and treatment. Nastya's mother also has a disability and takes care of everything on her own.
Most of Nastya’s days are quiet and structured around what her health allows. She leads a life largely away from group activities. When she has time and energy, she works with ceramics and modelling clay, shaping small objects with careful movements. This summer, she went to a camp for the first time — a brief change from medical routines and a rare experience outside her usual surroundings.
In her Christmas letter, Anastasiia writes:
“I wish for the war to end and for my dad to come home, and I also wish for my mom to get better. I also like sweets. Can you give me some magical sweets that don’t have gluten or sugar?”
Nothing is as sweet as memories. Not all children remember the moment they lost a parent. For some, absence became part of life before it could be fully understood.
Nicole’s steady hands
Nicole is six. She lives with her mother in Dnipro and goes to the first grade. When Nicole was four, her father went missing during the war and never returned. His absence is part of her life now, though she remembers little of the time before it.
Since then, Nicole and her mother have moved several times, living in rented apartments. Everyday routines matter — getting up, going to school, finding small points of stability. Nicole likes drawing and dancing. She enjoys making things with her hands and takes time when she writes, listing what she likes carefully, one thing after another. Her Christmas letter follows the same rhythm.
For the holidays, Nicole asks for a bracelet-making kit and a night projector — something to do with her hands, and soft light in the evening before she falls asleep.
“For the New Year holidays, I would love a jewelry-making kit and a starry-sky projector.”
Soft giant in war zone
In the Kharkiv Oblast, closer to the front line, another letter comes from Denys.
Denys lives with his mother and younger sister. The father died in combat in 2022. Denys is interested in dinosaurs. He reads about them, watches videos and remembers specific names and features. Brachiosaurus is his favourite.
In his Christmas letter, Denys wrote that he wanted a large, soft brachiosaurus toy — something he could sleep with when he felt cold or afraid. He did receive that present. Since then, Denys keeps the toy close. He sleeps with it at night and often carries it around the house. Asked about it, he says: “It’s the best gift of my life”.
Letters unanswered
These letters, collected by the Children of Heroes Charity Fund, show how children who lost a parent defending Ukraine approach Christmas through small, practical wishes rather than celebration. In the weeks before the holidays, each of these requests was fulfilled.
Denys, Nicole, Anastasiia and Maxym are among hundreds of thousands of children in Ukraine growing up amid displacement and separation. Others have been forced to leave their homes. Some have been separated from their families or deported to Russia. Many now live far from the places they once called home.
Today is Christmas for these children. The wishes they wrote about — food for a pet, medical-safe sweets, a night light, a soft toy to sleep with — have been fulfilled. They also asked for their parents’ health and for peace in Ukraine.
Many more letters like these remain unanswered.
According to the United Nations, since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion, at least 669 children have been verified killed and 1,833 injured (actual numbers likely much higher). Around 737,000 children have been displaced internally, more than 19,000 deported to Russia, and around 2,800 schools damaged or destroyed. Nearly one million children now study exclusively online, often during air-raid sirens or power cuts.
The article was prepared in cooperation with the Children of Heroes Charity Fund, Ukraine’s largest organization dedicated to long-term support for children who have lost one or both parents due to the war. The fund provides personalized humanitarian aid, psychological and medical support, and educational opportunities to children until they reach adulthood.
As of 1 December 2025, the fund supports 14,907 children across Ukraine, the majority of whom are children of fallen military personnel. Since its founding, the organization has provided over $18.6 million in assistance, focusing on long-term recovery and stability rather than one-time aid. Its mission is to honor the memory of fallen Ukrainian heroes by helping their children rebuild their lives and future.
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