(ANS – Kyiv) – In recent days, Fr. Michał Wocial, a Polish Salesian serving in Ukraine, visited the Salesian Mission Office Missioni Don Bosco in Turin to review projects supporting those affected by the war, share updates on ongoing initiatives, and discuss the communities’ most urgent needs after more than four years of living with the consequences of the conflict. Fr. Wocial’s visit followed a joint mission organized with the Salesian NGO VIS – International Volunteering for Development, during which Fr. Luca Barone, president of Missioni Don Bosco, traveled to Ukraine last month to see firsthand the initiatives supported by the Mission Office.
During the visit, Fr. Barone toured Salesian projects in Lviv, Vynnyky, Kyiv, Korostyshiv, Bibrka, and Zhytomyr. He met with the missionaries serving in the region, including Fr. Wocial, as well as Bishop Vitaliy Krivitskiy, SDB, Bishop of Kyiv-Zhytomyr, and Archbishop Visvaldas Kulbokas, Apostolic Nuncio to Ukraine.
The meeting in Turin strengthened the ongoing partnership between Missioni Don Bosco and the Salesians in Ukraine, helping ensure that assistance continues to reach those most in need quickly and effectively.
Reflections on the Missionary Journey by the President of Missioni Don Bosco
“There is a way of traveling that is not tourism, but pilgrimage. That is what it means to journey through Ukraine today: a wounded land where the roads do more than connect cities—they bind together tears, endure suffering, and carry steadfast hope.
A journey through a nation at war is unlike any other. You do not measure it in miles or kilometers, but in sighs. You do not remember it only through photographs, but through moments of silence. It is a journey through rubble that speaks and faces that plead. It is a fragile pilgrimage, where even hope walks with a limp. (…)
With Missioni Don Bosco, we once again crossed those borders, visiting the Salesian communities in Lviv, Vynnyky, Kyiv, Korostyshiv, Zhytomyr, and Bibrka. There I rediscovered that peace is not simply a word to be spoken, but something to be nurtured and protected.
Traveling in a country at war is like crossing a threshold: on one side is fear, on the other, faith. Buildings bear the scars of destruction. So many of the young men I met carry the marks of war on their bodies—or what remains of them—in wounds and prosthetic limbs. Yet their eyes still shine with hope.
Traveling through Ukraine today means accepting that there are no easy answers. The streets speak of fear, while the cities cry out with resilience. It is a journey that asks you to let go of certainty and clothe yourself instead in compassion.
It is a journey that disarms you—and I use that word deliberately in a land filled with weapons—because you realize there are no truly safe roads where suffering is widespread. Yet there are paths of humanity that no bomb can destroy.
Peace is not something you simply pass through; it is built one step at a time. Peace is not merely the silence of weapons, which still seems far away. It is the sound of children continuing to play in the courtyards of Salesian homes. It is an open notebook, a lesson that never ends, a comforting embrace.
Peace is a work in progress, and the Salesians are its builders. Their hands are worn by daily labor, and their hearts are shaped by the Gospel. Here, education becomes a prophetic act—a quiet form of resistance and a peaceful response to violence.
The Salesians remain at the side of young people, protecting their dreams when everything around them seems determined to destroy them. Their mission is both simple and radical: to be present. To stay when it would be easier to leave. To believe when everything invites despair. They offer a listening ear when the world is shouting. They provide stability when everything else is falling apart. They welcome displaced children, support wounded families, and educate for peace through authentic, everyday relationships.
Among young people, education becomes the language of hope. It is not simply about teaching knowledge, but about telling every young person: You have dignity. You matter. You are the future, even when everything around you seems to say otherwise.
Every classroom we are able to build anywhere in the world is an unarmed trench. Every oratory is a small victory over despair. Every school that opens is one less victory for war.
My journey has not been only geographical; it has also been deeply personal. (…) Speaking with the Salesians, volunteers, and humanitarian workers, I became convinced that peace needs feet willing to go and hands willing to remain.
I return from Ukraine, as I do from every missionary journey, a changed person. Perhaps with fewer certainties, but with a greater sense of urgency—not simply to speak about peace, but to become peace. (…)
War may devastate homes, but it cannot extinguish those who have chosen to educate through love. Wherever there is a young person who still hopes, war has already begun to lose.”
