The NZ Herald is joining forces with World Vision to help as more than two million Ukrainian women and children flee their country in the world's fastest-growing humanitarian emergency since the Second World War. World Vision Emergency Communications specialist Brianna Piazza reports on the refugee exodus from the Ukraine-Romania border.
"Let them think this is just a trip," Julia says to me as she looks at her daughters; 7-year-old twins Elisabeth and Caterina and 17-year-old Alina.
"The kids are asking 'Why are we leaving? Where are we going? Why are we hiding?'"
'We try not to panic so they will not know what war is. We are telling them that they will…" she falters, crying, and trying to find the right words to explain how she is trying to protect her daughters from the brutal truth of what they have just escaped.
"We try not to tell them this is war."
It's unfathomable. I'm with Julia at the Romanian border in a tent sheltering from the snow after the family escaped from Ukraine. The twins are wearing matching light blue coats and pink beanies and smile shyly at me as I take photos. Other than the clothes on their backs, the family has nothing with them. So desperate to get her children as quickly as possible to safety, while trying her best to keep them calm, Julia wasn't even able to pack a bag.
"My children are just in these clothes. We don't even have anything to change into. We have our documents, but we don't have any money. We can't pay for transport anywhere."
When the conflict hit their home in the Ukrainian capital of Kyiv, she was caught off guard.
"We didn't think that this would happen. And then we woke up to explosions. There were bombs and shooting. Destroyers were flying right above our house. I couldn't believe what was happening."
She never thought they'd have to leave their home, let alone the country she was born and raised in. She never thought she'd have to leave her own mother behind.
While Julia's priority now is to try to make their way to Germany, where she hopes friends will be able to help them, she already worries about her daughters' futures.
"We don't know when we will be able to come back home. How will they do their exams? Where will they go to school?"
As I say goodbye to her, she tells me she has a message. I promise her I will share it.
"We just want to go back home," she says, with pain etched on her face. "We want peace. We want to live in our Ukraine. In our house. That's all…"
Your urgent donation will provide vital essentials for children & families affected by the crisis in Ukraine. Please click here to donate now at worldvision.org.nz
Unfortunately, Julia's story is not uncommon. So many mothers I talk to are doing everything to protect their children from realising the full horror of what they're experiencing. Another mother I meet, also called Julia, has crossed the border with her mother and her three-year-old son Nicom.
"Nicom is tired and doesn't understand what is happening," she tells me quietly as her mother watches him.
On arriving at the border, Julia was met with flowers from local volunteers for International Women's Day, a touching gesture which made her feel welcome in this strange land.
But despite the generosity and kindness being shown by neighbouring countries, Julia is completely on her own, and the reality she is now facing couldn't be further from the holiday Nicom thinks he is on.
Like others arriving in a new country, she doesn't speak the language, it's hard to navigate public transport and they don't have clothes, food or money - they've left everything they have.
Where does she go now? How long will she be here for? How will she get food? How will she care for Nicom and her mother? Will she see her family and friends again? When can she just go home?
In an old office block that's been converted into a refuge shelter in Romania, I meet Ella.
When the 59-year-old sits down in a quiet room for our interview, I notice that she sinks low into the bed and slumps her shoulders. She exhales heavily and I can feel her exhaustion. It is like she's allowing herself a moment to stop for the first time since this bloodied conflict kicked off.
She's joined in the room by her 7-year-old granddaughter Kira and their beloved dog Busya, who they brought with them. When they come into the room, her face instantly lights up, as if they are giving her some strength.
She hugs Kira and she lets the dog lick her face. It's a peaceful and joyous moment in amongst the horror of the past two weeks.
The warehouse office has been converted to a night shelter for refugees – 400 people each night bring their tired bodies to rest in relative safety for the first time in over a week.
World Vision is supporting the makeshift centre by paying for utility bills and other running costs.
Sitting across from Ella, it's hard to believe that just over a week ago she was in her own home, in a town and community she loved, not sleeping on a foam swab in an office block, in a foreign country surrounded by hundreds of strangers as lost and shocked as her.
She begins to tell me that the women and children in her family fled across the border from their home in Kharkiv with just the clothes on their back, their passports and beloved Busya, not even having any water for the journey.
They had been woken by bombs before the sun had even risen and they ran into the basement where they stayed for seven days and seven nights.
They prayed for the bombing to stop, not knowing when it would be finally safe to leave.
Finally, they made a run for it. Emerging from the basement, they could see their house was destroyed, and any building left standing on their street was completely uninhabitable.
She begins to sob as she recounts the terror.
"It was very scary. The city is destroyed.
"Everything was on fire, but we managed to run away, thanks to volunteers who helped us.
"We fled in the car while there was bombing and shelling. We're very lucky our car wasn't destroyed."
After four days they made it through Moldova across into Romania.
She tells me through tears that Kira's father and grandfather are still in Ukraine.
"Not everyone got the chance to leave. So many people are dying. We don't know when we'll see them again."
Despite being safe for now, the members of Ella's family who have made it across the border are on edge. She tells me that every time they hear a loud noise, they duck for cover, fearing another bomb. For the sake of the kids, they try to pretend everything's fine but there's no denying that they are feeling the stress and pressure.
"All the kids from our country understand by themselves, no one needs to explain to them.
"They cry a lot," says Ella of her grandchildren. "We don't have a house. We cry for our house. It was destroyed. And we're going into the unknown. We don't have anywhere to go back to, and we have nowhere to go.'
'We hope for better, but I can't imagine what to do. In Kharkiv, there's nothing left."
Ukraine Crisis Appeal: Where your money goes
Your support will help children and families affected by the crisis in Ukraine with
• Psychosocial support to help kids cope with trauma
Your urgent donation will provide vital essentials for children & families affected by the crisis in Ukraine. Please click here to donate now at worldvision.org.nz