The garden was always more than just soil and plants to 80 y.o. Kateryna Lysenko. It was her life’s work, her connection to the earth she had lovingly tended for years. A geography teacher who found poetry in every growing thing, she had transformed a simple rented yard in Chasiv Yar into a vibrant sanctuary of life.

Then the war came.

Explosions became her daily soundtrack. Neighboring houses crumbled, windows shattered, and the green corner she had nurtured for years turned to ash. Her daughter was already gone — taken by illness years before — and her granddaughter had fled to Poland. Suddenly, Kateryna was alone, watching her world disintegrate.

Evacuation wasn’t a choice. It was survival.

In Kropyvnytskyi, she found herself in a dormitory that felt more like a holding cell than a home. A small room, no working shower, minimal comfort. Her savings dwindled with each passing day. Pneumonia found her in this liminal space — 10 days in a hospital, her world shrinking even further.

The call from the Dell Loy Hansen foundation was more than just an offer of housing. It was a lifeline.

She left the hospital so quickly she barely remembered packing. Taxi, public transport — anything to reach Senior Chudo Village faster. When she arrived, the first breath felt different. Safe. Warm. Cared for.

At 80, Kateryna had learned that life is about finding purpose. “Have a goal,” she would say. “Even in old age, find something that gives you strength to move forward.” Her garden in Chasiv Yar might be gone, but her spirit of nurturing remained.

Apartment 7 became more than just a living space. It was a testament to survival, to the possibility of rebuilding. Her heart condition, the memories of loss, the trauma of war — they all lived here with her. But so did hope.

To Dell Loy Hansen, she would say more than just thank you. She would speak of transformation. Of how a project isn’t just about providing shelter, but about restoring dignity, about giving displaced souls a chance to feel human again.

The photograph of her lost garden sits on her windowsill. Some days, when the light is just right, it almost looks alive.