Seventeen-year-old Mykyta prayed every day, morning and night. He came from a large family, and they often gathered together to sing psalms and praise God. That was their life—until the Russians came.

After a year of occupation, the pressure on Mykyta’s family intensified. The parents began receiving phone calls threatening that all their children would be taken to an orphanage if they were not enrolled in a Russian school. The callers warned they would show up with soldiers and assault rifles. Eventually, some of the children had to attend the occupation school. Even so, Mykyta’s family never abandoned their faith.

“There are very few Christians in our village, so we would gather at home, in secret,” Mykyta recalled.

The believers would meet in small groups of five in private homes to pray for peace. But even gatherings like these were dangerous. Armed soldiers confronted the pastor of the church the family attended, demanding: “What kind of sect is this?” “It’s not a sect, it’s a church,” he replied. “Then hang up a cross!” they ordered. The pastor was subsequently summoned for questioning. Another church was completely shut down. The congregation was forbidden from gathering and told, “Go to a normal church.” The occupiers considered any Christian denomination other than Orthodoxy to be “abnormal.”

Mykyta’s sister, Mariia, who had also lived under occupation, faced similar religious persecution. The Russians seized her church building, stripping it from the believers to repurpose it for the occupation administration and security services. Pastors were summoned for interrogations, and the congregation was disbanded. Mariia hadn’t seen her brother in three years—not since she miraculously escaped the occupation herself. All that time, she prayed for Mykyta, agonizing over whether he would be allowed to pass through the border checkpoints.

Eventually, Mykyta made the decision to flee and reached out to Save Ukraine for help. Mariia has become her brother’s legal guardian and brought him to live with her.