This satellite village lies 7 km from the district centre. The driver prompted me about the stop I needed: «Here, pani, this is where you get off, go to the right, you will see it there». I have long grown used to being addressed as «pani» — so tactful, I like it. At least here I get to be a lady.
The Church of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, built without a single nail, stands not by the central road but a little apart, hemmed in by village homesteads. I walked onto the grounds, wandered about, looked, thought. Wood is not stone: it breathes, it absorbs, it remembers. Some special grace is felt in places prayed over for centuries. This sanctuary was built in the 17th century by a Polish noblewoman. In 1738 the church was extended. Only in the years of atheist rule could people not come here. In 2010 the community took up its repair — and it is good that it was done without the ubiquitous plastic. Services are held only on the day of the patronal feast, 27 September.
At the start of the lane leading to the church, two lime trees grow inside a fence and a cross has been set up. Perhaps this is where the procession of the cross begins.
And across the road stands the new church, which they began to raise back in 1937, and only in 1990 did they manage to finish the building work that war and atheism had interrupted.
That the church is consecrated in honour of the apostles Peter and Paul is attested by the wonderful mosaic portraits of the saints.
The church was open, I spent some time inside, and then photographed the monument to the Fighters for the Freedom of Ukraine, erected in 2015.
That day workmen were laying paving on the church grounds. At the end of the avenue leading to the cemetery stands a monument to all the fellow villagers who have left this world. The central road stretches the whole length of the village, and so the street was named Dovha — the Long one.
For a minute I stop by the object that is obligatory in these parts, the village stadium. It is quiet there now; little cows are mowing the football pitch.
The next stop is by the monument marking the abolition of serfdom. It too is met with everywhere, a reminder of the eternal striving for freedom.
And here comes a meeting with the locals. While I was examining the chapel, two women of Dobrivliany who live nearby worked out at once that I was from far-off parts. They even named my city correctly! Such perceptive people! They told me that in recent years the spring of water by the chapel has dried up.
Then their neighbour came out, and a deputy at that. The representative of the local authority (they did well to elect a person who cares) laid out for me the history of the village, beginning with the times of the Polish noblewoman. And the chapel was built on the spot where the Mother of God appeared to one of the first settlers. The German, though, concealed that event from everyone. When a mute child was born to him, he realised his sin and told of the miracle. The holy place was established and in 1946 a wooden chapel was built here, which in 2001 was replaced by a new one.
The former one was moved out into the field; there is a spring there, and the water is blessed.
After a forced march out into the field to the wooden sanctuary, I continued on my way along Dovha Street.
I saw the monument to T. H. Shevchenko, erected in 2014. It has not yet had time to be adorned with the plantings of thuja, box and chrysanthemums that they love so much here.
The autumn day was unusually hot, up to +18. I was waiting for the bus at the stop. A woman walking past told me that the bus would come in about forty minutes and that I had better move into the shade. We got to know each other: Mariia is a nurse at the outpatient clinic, very attentive, responsive, kind, just as a medical worker ought to be. Do many sick people come? Yes, they come for first aid, to have their blood pressure taken, to ask advice. The medical facility is housed in the same building as the village council. It was built by the first settlers, German colonists, as were the other houses in the village, and they still serve people to this day. Monuments have survived in the German cemetery. But I no longer had time to walk there. Mariia said that her son had drawn a map of the village marking all the notable landmarks, with the history of every building and interesting information.
Time flew by in that absorbing conversation; Mariia saw me off. I thank everyone who helped me. It is a great pleasure that people know the history of their native land, take pride in it and cherish it.
This story is also available in Ukrainian: Добрівляни Стрийського району. Історія храмів і каплиці
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