It was a clear morning for the students of Mariupol’s ballet academy. Everyone was eager to get to their classes and prepare for the school’s recital of ‘The Winter’s Tale.’ Two of the older students - Olya and Olena - did their warmup together before class, just like they always did.
“I wish I could have played the princess,” Olya sighed. Olena giggled.
“Not me,” she said. “I like being a shepherdess!”
Their teacher arrived right on time and the whole class paid close attention. There was only one week left until the performance and there was still a lot of work to be done. Class began, and they went through the choreography they knew by heart. The students remembered every detail, but still the teacher shook his head when they finished.
“You’re each dancing as if you’re alone,” he said to them. “It won’t matter how beautifully you dance if you don’t dance with one another.”
The dancers listened to what he said and when they danced again their movements became smoother and smoother, until they danced with unified grace. Their teacher smiled, and the class felt proud by the end of their time together.
They were paying such close attention to dancing that the class was over before they even realized, and Olena and Olya were the last to leave. There was a rumble of thunder in the distance as they picked up their bags, but the sky was clear through the studio windows.
“That’s weird,” said Olya, looking out across the school campus and towards the city. She looked down at the street and saw military tanks, and unfamiliar soldiers approaching.
They heard the sound again, and then louder. This time, the room shook with the noise of it and the noises didn’t stop. Olena grabbed Olya and pulled her away from the window, and when they looked back a cloud of dust engulfed the apartments that had been there moments ago.
“What’s happening?” Olena shouted. They were frightened and confused, but too stunned to move. Suddenly, they each felt firm hand grasp their wrists and pull them towards the stairs.
“This way!” shouted their teacher, who had come back to bring them to safety.

Dust fell from the ceiling as Olya, Olena, and their teacher led them into the basement of the school. Some of their fellow students were huddled there already. The younger ones cried as the booming noises above them didn’t subside, and some of the older ones did too, but Olya and Olena sat on the floor with their teacher and felt secure.
“What should we do?” they asked. “Who are those soldiers? Why is our town being blown up?”
The students all looked to their teacher, who smiled sadly.
“They’re invaders,” he said. “They want to take Mariupol away from us.”
The children didn’t understand, but Olya and Olena knew they had to escape somehow. Their teacher agreed, and sat with them as they planned how to do it. They would have to go by foot through the city, and then through a forested park, then take a train far away from the explosions.
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Olena asked. Their teacher shook his head as he put bottles of water and granola bars into their backpacks.
“The younger children need me more,” he said. “You know the way.”