A Ukrainian refugee taught me what an incredible gift it is to help others

This First Person article is the experience of Christy Turner, who lives in Calgary. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.

The pandemic gave me a lot of time to reflect on my life. And without a husband or kids, I felt a lack of purpose.

My mom thought she had the answer. She kept urging me to find a way to help someone else. So this is the story of how I discovered what an incredible gift that advice was. 

At the beginning of this year, I was living alone in a cute 1950s bungalow in northwest Calgary, and although I loved the space, I had three empty bedrooms upstairs that could be doing, well, something.

That's when news broke about Russia's cruel attack on Ukraine. Keeping my mother's advice in mind, I wondered, could I help even one person?

Online, Ukrainians started posting calls for help, searching for temporary places to stay in Canada. I joined a website connecting potential hosts and refugees, and one of the first people I met was Lera Omelchenko, a 27-year-old woman from Odessa who lived with her husband and Samoyed dog, Alaska.

We connected by video chat and Lera described hearing constant sirens warning citizens to take cover, the explosions nearby and the fear they felt 24 hours a day. The alarms came so frequently, they would pick and choose which ones to treat seriously, often sheltering for hours in a stairwell or bathroom. The horror of war was unimaginable.

Suddenly I felt grateful for my big, empty house.

I worried about inviting a stranger to live with me. But as Lera and I chatted further, we began to feel at ease. I knew she'd have trouble finding a place for the dog Alaska especially, and wanted to help. 

She and Alaska found places on a Canadian government charter flight in early June.

That's when my work began. I printed photos of her and her husband from Instagram since he was of conscription age and had to remain behind. Then I drove all over the city scouting furniture for her bedroom, including a gorgeous yellow bedspread and new blue sheets to create the Ukrainian flag. 

To my delight, as I spread the word, other donations poured in. Friends I hadn't seen in 15 years dropped off a white dresser, a cousin dropped off a basket of Ukrainian goodies and dog treats, and a total stranger transferred $100 for a gift card to help her settle.

Finally she arrived. I picked her up at the airport and marvelled at how comfortable we felt together, despite the 25-year age difference. Lera was stunned that strangers seemed to care so much about her. And for me, she felt like a daughter. I felt protective and came up with endless ideas on how to help her settle, find a job and recover from the trauma of the war zone.

We embarked on a series of mini-getaways to give her peace about her choice of new home. We "comfort camped" in Dinosaur Provincial Park, a cabin in Jasper and a friend's condo in Invermere, B.C.