Sister in Ukraine: Bombs cannot break faith, will to live or desire for freedom

By Sister Alina Petrauskaite and Svitlana Dukhovych

“We go to sleep every day afraid, because we don’t know when missiles or drones will arrive. Every morning we thank God for having woken up, and every evening we give thanks because we are still alive. Ukrainians are living through a very dangerous time. But we have the right to live in safety, without fear, just as every country does.”

Sister Liji (Lidia) Payyapilly, of the Congregation of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Saint-Marc, is originally from India but came to Ukraine for her mission almost 25 years ago. When she says “we,” despite her accent, one can sense her profound identification with the Ukrainian people.

In Transcarpathia, in the village of Pavshyno, near Mukachevo in the southwest of the country, the sister welcomes people to her congregation’s monastery for spiritual conversations and intercessory prayer.

Thanks to her particular gift for prayer, Sister Liji is known by many faithful, both Catholic and non-Catholic, throughout Ukraine. From time to time, she visits other parishes, in Ukraine and abroad, where she is invited to lead days of spiritual retreat.

In an interview with Vatican News, Sister Liji recounts her recent journeys to towns and cities on the front line, in eastern and southern Ukraine. She reflects on the importance of prayer in defending one’s homeland against aggression and offers a perspective on the meaning of true independence in a country marked by war.

Sister Liji Paiapilli prays with the community in Pavshyno, Transcarpathia   (© Congregation Archives)

The charism of adoration and the commitment to people

Explaining the nature of her ministry, Sister Liji emphasizes the concrete expression of her congregation’s charism: eucharistic adoration and evangelization.

“When I spend time in adoration,” the religious sister says, “I express my love for the Eucharist and I want others to be able to love it and welcome it as well.”

Her mission is rooted in her personal witness to the living presence of God: “I evangelize through my experience: the Lord has touched my life and, for me, He is alive. The Eucharist is God present among us, and I try to convey this truth to others.”

Although the monastery in Pavshyno, Transcarpathia, remains the main point of reference for her ministry, the sister’s work extends far beyond the convent.

The inability to accommodate the thousands of faithful seeking spiritual counsel has led Sister Liji to travel throughout Ukraine and abroad, responding to invitations from parishes.

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“Not everyone can come here,” she explains, “so I decided to go where the people are.”

Before the pandemic, the monastery welcomed up to 700 people in a single day. Today, to better manage the flow of visitors, an appointment system has been introduced, allowing the religious sister to dedicate time and attention to the faithful three days a week.

During the war, the faces of those knocking at the monastery door have changed: “Lately, the people who have been coming have missing family members, they are mothers who have lost their children, women who have been widowed,” Sister Liji says.

“For us, it is a precious aspect of our service: having the opportunity to comfort, support and pray for those who are suffering.”

On the front line and the tragedy of hunger

The desire to understand the sacrifice of those living on the front line prompted Sister Liji to leave the relative safety of Transcarpathia and travel personally to some of the areas hardest hit by the war.

In the past, in 2016, her mission had taken her to Mariupol and Donetsk. Since the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, however, she has felt an urgent need to see firsthand the wounds of a suffering population.

Television images were no longer enough to bridge the distance between those living under bombs and those who could only pray from afar.

In Sumy, in the north of the country, and later in Zaporizhzhia in the southeast, at the invitation of Bishop Jan Sobilo, the religious sister saw what often escaped media coverage.

“I saw people lining up from four in the morning for a piece of bread,” she recalls. “When I arrived in Ukraine in 2004, elderly people told me about the famine during the Second World War. I never imagined that, in the 21st century, I would see the same scene with my own eyes: thousands of people standing in line to receive a piece of bread and a tin of food.”

Sister Liji’s account becomes painful as she recalls the testimonies of people who have lost everything: “We had land, we had a home; we never thought that life would reduce us to begging for bread.”

Amid this desolation, however, the religious sister also found signs of extraordinary charity, such as the work of the Albertine Friars in Zaporizhzhia, who tirelessly bake bread and distribute essential supplies to families and children.

The Indian nun near Bishop Sobilo, in the Zaporizhzhia region

In places of pain and hope

During her stay in Dnipro, Sister Liji also chose to share the daily life of the faithful, seeking to experience alongside them the fear caused by passing drones and missiles. Her presence became an embrace for those who had lost hope.

“I asked the Lord to use my heart to manifest His love,” she says. “When I embraced them, many burst into tears. For them, even that gesture was a form of liberation.”

Visiting the military hospital in Dnipro, Sister Liji admits that she was overwhelmed: “To tell the truth, I was left speechless, unable to find words in the face of what I was seeing.”

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Before her were men in the prime of life, maybe 35 or 40 years old, who had to learn again how to walk with prosthetic limbs or grasp an object with a hand that was no longer their own.

Her compassion turned into a profound sense of gratitude: “Looking at them, I understood that they had lost their legs and arms so that I would not lose mine. They protected me; they protected us. How much suffering they have endured, how many lives have been shattered to defend our country, our Ukrainian land and the dignity of our people!”

The vitality of Kharkiv and the “true heroes” of Kherson

In Kharkiv, Sister Liji witnessed the commitment of volunteers and the extraordinary vitality of the people.

“I saw the immense dedication they put into everything,” she says. “And I saw how beautiful Ukraine is. I have visited many countries in Europe, but I have never found a park as beautiful as the one in Kharkiv. I was deeply amazed to see that, even amid war and missiles flying overhead, people want to live.”

“We are fighting to be able to live in our own land. Ukraine is defending itself in order to live. We are not going to conquer anyone: we are simply defending ourselves so that we can live.”

In Kherson, a devastated city where not a single house remains intact, Sister Liji met “the true heroes of Ukraine.”

In the deserted streets, the threat from drones is constant: “When we were at Mass, 20 of them flew overhead in that short period of time,” the religious sister recounts.

The parish priest, Father Maksym, explained the rules of survival to her: “When you see a drone, you have to run under a tree, because they use cameras to locate people and drop small explosives or mines. But you also have to be careful under trees: a deadly mine can be hidden among the leaves or inside an abandoned bag.”

Despite the tension and the lack of water, Sister Liji says she was struck by the people’s spirit: “I expected the residents to have complaints or to be disappointed, but instead I heard them expressing such gratitude to God! They said: ‘Our strength is prayer. We don’t know whether we will be alive tomorrow, but we live and we want to die as Ukrainians.’”

The dignity of resistance and the sign of life

Many people cannot or do not want to leave, as Oleksiy, a father of two, explains: “Where should we go? Who is waiting for us? And besides, our elderly mothers are here, and they absolutely do not want to leave their homes.”

Among the stories that leave one breathless is that of a 56-year-old woman who was wounded in a bombing and forced to wash herself with water collected drop by drop in a glass. She confided that she could no longer recognize herself in the mirror.

“I am deeply grateful that I was able to go and see with my own eyes what war is,” Sister Liji says. She also carries in her heart the tragedy of nearby territories that remain under occupation, where electricity and basic necessities have been lacking for years.

Yet amid the hunger and humanitarian crisis, the true light is another one: “The sign of hope during my stay in Kherson was the birth of a baby girl. Because if children are being born there, Kherson will continue to live.”

The victory of light and the power of prayer

When asked why spirituality and prayer remain fundamental in such a dramatic context, Sister Liji refers to Scripture:

“As Saint Paul writes in the Letter to the Ephesians, our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the spirits of evil. Darkness does not exist in itself; it is simply the absence of light. Everything connected with war—hatred, murder, destruction and anger—is the fruit of an evil spirit. Those who act in this way cooperate with it.”

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This is why prayer becomes the decisive weapon for the Ukrainian people’s inner resistance:

“Jesus has already conquered the world, but the evil spirit tries to deceive us by making us believe that it has the power to destroy. In reality, power belongs only to Christ. That is why it is so important to pray: so that we can allow the Holy Spirit to act through us.”

35 years of independence: Overcoming fear to live in freedom

As Ukraine approaches the 35th anniversary of its independence, Sister Liji offers a reflection on the meaning of this milestone:

“It seems to me that Ukraine is still unable to fully rejoice in this independence, because we are chained by fear. God has given every nation the freedom to live freely, but today the Ukrainian people live in constant terror” because they could die at any moment from a drone or missile.

The religious sister’s hope is rooted in faith and in the promise of peace that Christ left to His disciples, just as when He appeared to them in the Upper Room while they were locked inside out of fear:

“Ukraine is afraid today and needs peace. When we preserve peace in our hearts, fear disappears; that is certain. God has given us freedom and, through His victory, we must attain the possibility of living freely in our own land.”