HOLD JOY: Ukrainian Christmas Festival this weekend at Waterline

Shannon Rae Gentry
19 minutes ago
5 min read

“Dear Santa!

Yaroslav from Kyiv is writing to you. I am 11 years old, attending 5th grade.

Santa, I'm asking for Peace for Ukraine as a gift! And for me - a bag of happiness, health, and patience for Mom.

Santa, I am very nice and study well. Please bring me as a gift a water flosser for teeth and a building set Minecraft (big..).

I listened and was a nice boy all year. Mommy is proud of me. Santa, I am waiting for a Miracle!

With respect, Yaroslav!”

Honestly, I don’t know how reading this makes me feel… it warms and shatters my heart like boiling water in tempered glass. It’s deep-seated joy and hope. And children (and I’d venture most adults) everywhere are asking for versions of the same thing.

Whether they’re in Palestine or the Congo, Appalachia or along the southern border—kids want safety, family, stability, and the chance to grow up in peace. While all the labels we adults argue about seem to dominate the algorithm and rhetoric, children wait for miracles.

Anastasiia Chapman, Executive Director of the Ukrainian Christmas Festival and Regional Outreach Director for Ukrainians in the Carolinas, shared Yaroslav’s letter with me in preparation for the Ukrainian Christmas Festival this Saturday, Nov. 22.

“It’s a reminder of why we do this work,” she says of the letter. “We want to bring joy and comfort to these children during unimaginable hardship. Their strength inspires me.”

While I have had a small window into the culture, my husband Tom once lived in Sumy, Ukraine. We both served in the Peace Corps, me in Tonga and him in Ukraine a few years prior. Because of Tom’s time in Ukraine, we’ve swapped stories, tried recipes, and carried small pieces of Ukrainian tradition into our own family life. When we first attended the Ukrainian Festival at Waterline Brewing years ago, it wasn’t unfamiliar. It felt like walking into someone else’s hometown church or community supper—new faces, familiar warmth.

Watching the war unfold has been painful for everyone, grief manifests at multiple levels, but of course we can’t fathom what the reality of war is for people living it. And yet, festivals like this remind us that people can connect across cultures if we show up willing to see each other’s humanity first. You don’t need a Peace Corps story to understand that. You just need a little curiosity and an open seat at the table.

“This community holds itself together.”

Anastasiia’s work here in the Carolinas has always focused on supporting Ukrainian refugees and fundraising for Ukraine. “The festival lets us do both,” she notes.

Refugees volunteer to cook traditional dishes—long hours, big pots, recipes passed down through generations. While they chop and stir and bake, they’re rebuilding community piece by piece. Their labor becomes their connection.

Of course, the reality is still difficult.

“Unfortunately, some families are now losing their work permits due to delays in USCIS processing,” she explains. “These are people who truly want to work and support themselves, so the uncertainty has created a lot of stress.”

Anyone who’s ever tried to renew a passport knows the frustration. But for these families, the stakes are far higher.

Music, spiders, wheat, and “Shchedryk”

The Ukrainian Christmas Festival is a treat for the senses. Traditional food. Dance. Music. Costumes bright and bold as Christmas day. And stories tucked into every corner, like:

Didukh—a sheaf of wheat placed in the home to honor ancestors.

Ukrainian Christmas spiders and their woven webs—symbols of luck and creativity. (We each have our own spiders that perch in our tree at home; perennial conversation starters.)

“Did you know that ‘Carol of the Bells,’ one of the most beloved Christmas songs in America, is actually Ukrainian?” Anastasiia adds. “It’s based on the traditional carol ‘Shchedryk,’ and you’ll be able to hear it—along with many other beautiful Ukrainian songs—performed at the event.”

This year’s festival will bring dancers, musicians, and vocalists from across the Carolinas, including Charlotte, Raleigh, and Greensboro. “You’ll have the chance to enjoy artists you’d normally have to drive three or four hours to see, all right here in one place,” Anastasiia notes. “The performances are always a highlight of the festival, and we’re thrilled to bring that same energy and cultural celebration to our community again this year.

Finding Joy

As we enter another holiday season with so many families worldwide experiencing horrors beyond our imagination, Anastasiia says she sees people finding strength and joy by holding on to the small, everyday things—living each moment as if it’s the last.

“For me, the clearest example is my own family,” she shares. “It’s been incredibly difficult to watch my mom and grandmother, who worked their whole lives toward a peaceful retirement, spend the last three years living with no power, no running water, and none of their belongings after being forced to evacuate their home and move across Ukraine."

Anastasiia Chapman describes her grandmother, who celebrated her birthday on November 5, with flowers her mom grew in their “new home.” "My grandma had to start her life hiding from Germans in our town as a little girl, and unfortunately at the end her life she had to run from her town escaping Russians."

“But what are they doing—crying every day? No. My grandmother, who is almost 90 and has survived two heart attacks, spends her days cross-stitching and crocheting. My mom, who arrived to a house with a yard full of waist-high weeds, has turned it into the most beautiful flower garden in the village—yes, even in winter. They choose joy because it’s the only way to keep going.”

Anyone raised by tough Southern elders, immigrant grandparents, or Depression-era families understand that instinct. Survival isn’t the opposite of joy—sometimes it’s the birthplace of it.

As for Anastasiia, she finds her strength in organizing fundraisers. “If we stop, who will continue this work? It gives me a sense of purpose, helping to protect those who are under the bombing of Russia every single day. Joy, perseverance, and strength come from ACTION, not silence—even the smallest acts of creating beauty or helping others.”

Where the Money Goes

The festival raises funds through Ukrainians in the Carolinas, focusing on:

Children of fallen Ukrainian veterans
Children whose parents are still fighting, supported through Brave Children of Ukraine
Urgently needed supplies requested directly from the front lines

Other Ukrainian nonprofits will be on-site as well.

The Wall Between

So how do you connect with someone whose world looks nothing like yours? Sometimes all it takes is a shared meal. A familiar song. A handmade ornament on a Christmas tree. A willingness to show up.

Events like these do more than celebrate culture. It collapses the distance between “us” and “them.” It reminds us that people everywhere want safety for their families. That peace isn’t a luxury or gift or miracle—it's a right.