There was a moment when all she had left…was sweet tea.

No food.
No help.
A crying baby in her arms.

Valeria sat in a small room, exhausted and desperate, listening to her daughter cry from hunger, knowing she couldn’t feed her because she herself had nothing to eat. So she did the only thing she could.

She drank sweet tea…
closed her eyes…
and prayed her body would produce enough milk to keep her baby alive.

This is where her story begins.

Valeria lost her parents long before they died.

By the age of seven, alcohol had taken them from her in every way that mattered. She was raised by her grandmother, the only steady love she knew, until even that was taken when her grandmother’s health failed.

Foster care followed.
Hard labor.
Emotional pressure.
A childhood shaped more by survival than safety.

By 16, she was on her own path, trade school, work, independence. But life unraveled again when she became pregnant. The father of her child became violent. At two months pregnant, he hit her. She left… and stepped into complete isolation.

No family.
No support.
No safety net.

Just a young woman… carrying a child… trying to survive. And then came the moment that could have broken her completely. Her baby cried from hunger. And there was nothing she could give. But this is also where her story turns.

Because someone showed up.

Yuliana didn’t just bring food, she brought presence,
guidance, care. She showed Valeria how to care for her baby.
She brought what was needed. And then she opened a door:

“Come to the Shelter.”

Everything changed.

Not all at once… but deeply.

For the first time in her life, Valeria felt something unfamiliar:

Peace.

No longer wondering if tomorrow would bring hunger.
No longer alone in the struggle.

And slowly… something even more profound began to grow.

Love.

“I didn’t know how to love before,” she said.
“I was even ashamed to show it.”

But here, through the people around her, she began to understand something she had never known:

That she was loved.

By people.
And by God.

Now, she holds her daughter Amelia, not with fear… but with purpose. A mother who once had nothing to give,
now dreams of giving everything.

“I want her to be with God,” she says.
“I want her to be educated. I want her to have a better life.”

In a country where sirens still echo and war lives in the background of everyday life, Valeria’s story is quiet. But it is powerful.

Because in a world shaped by loss, she chose to stay, to fight, to love.

About Last Bell Ministries

During my time in Zhytomyr, I didn’t just observe the work of Last Bell, I experienced it, in the laughter of young people gathered together, in quiet conversations filled with honesty, and in the steady presence of a community that feels like family.

During so many of the one to two hour interviews I conducted, I often asked a simple question, “If you could describe Last Bell in one word, what would it be?” After careful reflection, the most common answer was the same, family.

In Ukraine, the “Last Bell” marks a student’s transition into adult life. For orphanage graduates, it can be a moment of deep uncertainty. Last Bell Ministries meets them there, providing housing, mentorship, and community, helping turn a vulnerable ending into a hopeful new beginning.

I’ve seen firsthand how this kind of support changes lives, walking with young men and women through some of their hardest moments and helping them move from survival toward stability, healing, and belonging.

If you’d like to learn more about Last Bell or be part of this work, visit lastbell.org.

About Capturing Grace
Discover the story behind Capturing Grace and how my daughter Christina’s life continues to inspire this work at capturinggrace.org/about-us.