We thank you so much for your wonderful friendship and partnership in the gospel. Bless you for your very kind help and support for the vulnerable, needy children of Ukraine. We do appreciate your faithfulness.
Under the conditions prevailing in the Ukraine we will not publish on the website photographs that either identify people or locations, similarly towns, other than those regularly mentioned by the media will not be named. Some names have also been changed in this report.
If you receive a direct copy of our news letters please do not re-publish any part to social media. Thank you for your understanding.
Of all the thousands of needy people – orphans, homeless children and crushed families, we have been able to rescue from the war zones and evacuate from Ukraine, we still come across those with even more overwhelming needs and illnesses. One such family came to our attention two months ago. Here’s their story – (as written by Sasha, my manager):-
Olive lay in her hospital bed, the soft hum of the medical equipment a constant reminder of her bleak condition and uncertain future. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the room, a stark contrast to the comforting scents of her village in Ukraine. Despite the steady beep of the monitors, her mind often drifted back to the simple rhythms of her past life. She remembered the morning sun casting long shadows over the fields, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from the kitchen, and the soothing hum of Victor’s voice as he worked in their modest garden. Their children, Nigel, eleven, and little Susan, eight, were the joy of their lives, their laughter ringing through the house, a constant reminder of hope and life.
In September 2023, Olive’s world shifted dramatically. Diagnosed with cancer, her journey through the Ukrainian healthcare system has been fraught with complications. Each surgery left her weaker, and the cancer more resilient. With the situation in Ukraine deteriorating, they fled to Norway, seeking refuge and medical help, holding on to the fragile hope that somewhere, a cure might still exist.
Trondheim greeted them with a chill that seeped into their bones, but also with a warmth that touched their hearts. St. Olav Hospital became their new home, a place of waiting and worrying. For months, Olive lingered in the purgatory of uncertainty, the cancer spreading insidiously, her strength waning with each passing day. By the time she was admitted, it was too late. The doctors, with sorrow in their eyes, informed them that the cancer had reached stage 4 and metastasized throughout her body.
It was then, at their lowest ebb, that we met Olive and her family. Her sister in Ukraine had reached out to us, a plea for companionship and comfort that we couldn’t ignore. Our first visit found them teetering on the edge of despair, their faces drawn with worry and fatigue. Victor, deeply in pain and in urgent need of surgery himself, postponed his own medical needs to stay by Olive’s side in her final days. Olive lay in her hospital bed, her body frail and ravaged by illness, but her eyes held a quiet resilience, a flicker of the woman she had once been.
The initial conversations were halting, filled with long silences and unspoken fears. But gradually, with each visit, the barriers began to crumble. We listened to their stories, shared in their sorrows, and offered what comfort we could. We prayed with them, and over time, something remarkable began to happen. Olive, despite her terminal prognosis, began to smile again—a smile that reached her eyes and softened her features, bringing a semblance of the woman she once was back to life.
In the gentle moments between pain and medication, Olive found peace. It wasn’t the healing they had hoped for, but it was healing nonetheless—a deep, spiritual tranquillity that embraced not just her but Victor, Nigel, and Susan as well. They found solace in their new faith in Jesus, a steadfast belief that whether in life or death, they would be eternally together.
One afternoon, as the sun cast a golden glow through the hospital window, Olive turned to us, her voice soft but steady. “I have found peace,” she said, her eyes shining with an inner light. “I am not afraid anymore. I know that my family will be okay, and that we will always be together, in this life or the next.”
Her words hung in the air, a testament to the profound transformation that had taken place. In the face of unimaginable pain and uncertainty, Olive and her family had discovered a remarkable serenity. They had been to the brink and back, finding a strength that transcended the physical, rooted deeply in love and faith.
As we left that day, there was a palpable sense of calm in the room. The hospital, once a place of fear and sorrow, had become a sanctuary of peace. Olive’s journey was nearing its end, but it was marked not by despair, but by a quiet, enduring hope. And in that moment, surrounded by the love of her family and the grace of her newfound peace, Olive smiled—a smile that was at once heart-wrenching and profoundly beautiful, a smile that would stay with us forever.
On Sunday night at the Refugees Meeting at the Betel Church we had a pleasant surprise – Victor took the wheelchair to the hospital and pushed Olive through the city of Trondheim to be in church for the first time. She wanted to come, and she was happy. The whole family was there. It was precious and very emotional. Everyone was cheering and saluting their dedication. She has only days to live, but she can rest in peace knowing that her family is safe.
We give thanks to God and the work of the Holy Spirit to bring salvation and peace to Victor, Olive and their children at this time; also for the ministry of Sasha and Vera to them.
Please continue to pray for this family.
‘This is good, and pleases God our Saviour, who wants all people to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth’
1 Timothy 2:3-4.

That’s what they are doing from the House of Hope for the poor and needy. Please continue to help us to help all these needy families. Finances are running low due to the huge amounts we’ve had to outlay in providing food, medicine packs, and Bibles to so many devastated families, and then evacuating many more to safety.
| $ | |
|---|---|
| Rescue packages for poor bombed villages – 200 food parcels x $ 25 | 5,000 |
| Poor Family Budgets in Odessa province | 3,000 |
| Bibles | 3,000 |
| Salaries for the workers per month | 4,000 |
| Staff Missionary support | 1,500 |
| House of Hope utilities and maintenance | 3,000 |
| Maintenance of Rescue Vans | 3,500 |
| Melitopol Music Group – Ministry in Norway | 1,700 |
| TOTAL MONTHLY BUDGET | 24,700 |
We appreciate your partnership in the Gospel immensely. Thank you for the encouragement you are to us, and thousands of needy people through us. Please continue to stand with us in prayer and support for these needs. We couldn’t have managed without you.

to rubble and smoke lingering in the air. The city’s infrastructure has been severely damaged, with homes, businesses, and public spaces bearing the brunt of the destruction. Hundreds of apartments have been damaged, leaving countless families homeless and seeking refuge in makeshift shelters. The destruction of grocery warehouses has disrupted the food supply, causing severe shortages. People line up for hours in the hope of securing basic necessities, with empty shelves a stark reminder of the crisis. The cries for food and medicine have reached the House of Hope, so we’ll be delivering food & medicine packs as well and Bibles to 100’s of needy families. The people have come to accept the fact that provisions come with the Word of God.
In the heart of the city, the grand opera house, a cultural landmark, bears the scars of the conflict. Despite the damage, it stands as a symbol of the city’s enduring spirit, with efforts underway to restore and preserve it.
Tina began to cry, "Thank you, I don't know what we would have done without you." Andre said, "It's not us you should be thanking, but God, and the people who gave to help. And we have some good news—we managed to get you a good stove. It should be delivered tomorrow. Now I’m going to replace your faulty electrical sockets. We can't have anything happening to you and the kids." The room gradually grew warmer, not only from the repaired sockets, but from the sense of safety and hope that Andre and Avigail's presence brought. For the first time in a long time, Tina felt a glimmer of hope. She knew the road ahead was still challenging, but with their help and the support of kind-hearted people, she believed that better days were possible. As Andre and Avigail prepared to leave, Tina said "Thank you, you've given us more than just food and a new stove. You've given us hope." Avigail added, "You're not alone in this. We'll keep doing what we can to support you."