Success Stories

Recovery Camp

Art of Recovery

In the Art of recovery project, we often observe how through simple things — drawing, color, shared time — the sense of support gradually returns. Sometimes it's not about big changes, but about very quiet yet important moments that begin with safety and trust.

Recovery Camp

The story of Lyudmila Babak and her 13-year-old son Denis

A family from the village of Zasullya, Poltava region — about recovery, strength and unforgettable changes after Recovery Camp

Lyudmila Babak's family from the village of Zasullya in Poltava region is raising 13-year-old Denis — an open, sensitive boy who has Down syndrome. He is growing up very sincere, emotional and kind, and his mother is always looking for opportunities for him to develop and discover the world without fears and barriers.

Recovery Camp

The story of Inna Rishetnyak and her son Gleb

Recovery Camp — an experience that changes mothers and children

When Inna Rishetnyak came to Recovery Camp with her eight-year-old son Glib, she dreamed of one thing: to rest a little from daily tension, feel lightness and give her son a new atmosphere — safe, warm and inspiring. Glib had long avoided communicating with children and adults, was wary of any new contacts, and every interaction required a lot of effort from his mother.

Recovery Camp

If he is well — then I am happy too

The Story of Natalia and Her Son Sashko from Poltava

When Natalia and her son Sashko arrived at Recovery Camp, she dreamed of only one thing — for her boy to feel accepted and calm among other children.
Sashko has autism, and mood swings, tears, and tantrums had become normal for him. But his mother believed that this camp would help him find new feelings — joy, lightness, warmth.

Recovery Camp

The week that brought us back peace and faith

The story of Alla and her two children from the frontline region

Alla came to Recovery Camp with great fatigue — from endless household chores, anxieties and fear for her children's lives. In her heart was one desire — to rest a little, give more attention to the children and feel peace again, which is so rare during wartime.