In early 2026, a severe cold wave swept across Europe. Seventeen people died of exposure in Poland. Across the border in Ukraine, bitter winter and war overlapped. Russian strikes on energy infrastructure left about 400,000 people without power each day.

In parts of Kyiv, electricity was cut for up to 23 hours daily. In Odesa, around 33,000 families endured temperatures as low as minus 25 degrees Celsius without reliable heating, fighting simply to survive.

Under such conditions, many life‑threatening episodes—hypothermia, fainting, chest pain, injuries—may occur long before an ambulance can arrive. In Poznan, Poland, local Tzu Chi volunteers decided that “knowing how to save a life” should become part of their basic training, not an optional skill.

They now meet regularly for international winter emergency first‑aid courses, determined to be the people who can hold that crucial window of time for others.

A first responder who saw what was missing

On 10 January, the “Winter International Emergency First Aid Training” in Poznan was again led by a familiar face: Justyna Kowalska‑Zych, head of the Red Cross in Poznan and a seasoned front‑line paramedic with thirty years’ experience. Often invited by Polish media to explain emergency concepts, she is also a Tzu Chi volunteer.

When war in Ukraine broke out in 2022, millions fled to Poland. In Poznan and the surrounding areas, volunteers and Justyna’s Red Cross team worked side by side to distribute relief items and arrange emergency shelter, ultimately serving more than 25,000 people.

What stayed with Justyna was not only the lack of supplies, but the way people’s strength simply gave out. At distribution sites, she saw people collapse after prolonged hunger, sleeplessness, cold, and fear. Some clutched their aid packs only to faint moments later, gasping for breath or clutching their chest.

The ambulance would still be on its way. At the scene, there was often no one trained to hold those critical minutes.

That gap led Justyna to join Tzu Chi and design an ongoing, no‑fee international first‑aid course for volunteers. In her view, “only volunteers who can stay standing” in a crisis are truly able to walk far with others.

Many paths, one purpose

On this winter day in Poznan, the classroom filled with people of different ages, languages and life stories, yet all had come for the same reason: to learn how to protect life.

One participant, Justin from Nigeria, serves as a Poznan district councilor. Together with his Polish wife Agnieszka, he volunteers after work to visit elderly residents in their eighties, checking in on their daily needs.

Elsewhere in the room sat six volunteers from Taiwan and one from Malaysia. Four were doctors or medical students. Others had long been supporting Ukrainian children in Poland with language and schoolwork support.

Among them, Dr. Liang‑Yu Chen (陳亮妤) has led a “Chinese Club” since 2023 and helps Ukrainian doctors navigate the steps needed to practice legally in Poland. Heng‑Chi Teng (鄧姮琦) and her daughter Yun‑Ting Yang (楊雲霆) have, since 2022, been hand‑drawing bookmarks with Jing Si Aphorisms to send quiet encouragement to people they serve.

Several Ukrainian volunteers in the room had once stood on the other side of the aid line. They first came to Poznan as war survivors receiving help in 2022. Now, they teach classes at the community center, conduct home visits, and assist with training—passing on the warmth and support they themselves once received.

The course was conducted entirely in Polish. To make sure no one was left behind, volunteer Lukasz Baranowski and Yun‑Ting stood by with simultaneous interpreting into English, enabling every attendee to understand and practice.

From the outset, Justyna made the heart of emergency care very clear. First aid, she emphasized, is not about perfection or heroics; it is about reacting, finding the courage to act, and deciding not to look away.

Her teaching style is practical: she first helps volunteers dare to do something, then helps them refine how to do it better.

A message from Kyiv makes every drill real

Partway through the training, a message arrived from Kyiv. The room gradually fell silent as volunteers read it on their phones.

The sender, Oksana Topolnyk, is a Ukrainian lawyer. After receiving support from Tzu Chi in 2022, she spent more than a year and a half volunteering almost daily at the Poznan center, helping with distributions and home visits. Later, worried about her elderly mother, she returned to Kyiv and began supporting both the military and her neighborhood.

She wrote that Kyiv now has only about one hour of electricity per day, often at low voltage—around 140 volts—so most appliances cannot function. Nighttime temperatures drop to minus 28 degrees Celsius. Residents hang towels and curtains over doors to keep precious heat from leaking away.

Oksana described how she uses sewing skills learned in Poznan to make warm undergarments for neighbors and elders, and how she relies on first‑aid training from previous courses to care for injured soldiers and civilians while waiting for formal rescue to arrive. The message was simply a note of gratitude, sent from a dark, freezing city.

After reading it, every CPR drill on the classroom floor felt different. The mannequin under one’s hands could easily be someone like Oksana’s neighbor, or a stranger collapsed at a distribution line.

Behind the training, quiet hands at work

While compressions and bandage techniques were being practiced in the classroom, another set of tasks was quietly happening next door. Some volunteers coordinated meal orders and prepared food. Others managed time, room setup and logistics so participants could focus fully on learning.

One of them, Anna Egwu James, moved between the kitchen and shared spaces, making sure meals were ready and that transitions stayed smooth. Her work isn't on the course schedule, but without this kind of support, a full‑day training would be hard to complete.

A family that chose to stand beside the vulnerable

At the New Year volunteer gathering following the course, Lukasz gave an overview of Tzu Chi's recent global actions in Mozambique, Poland, Spain, Taiwan, Türkiye, Jordan, and more. The stories highlighted a simple thread: behind each “point” on a world map are people who quietly commit to standing firm for others.

Then it was Danuta Baranowska, Lukasz’s mother, who stepped to the front. Danuta has taken part in many distributions and home visits in Poznan since 2022. She sincerely thanked everyone and shared how proud she felt of her son and of the many people walking this path together.

Her daughter Agnieszka Hancyk, an elementary school teacher, and grandson Julek Hancyk were also present. Over the years, this three‑generation family has repeatedly gone into disadvantaged households, including homes of children battling cancer, offering steady company and emotional support.

Nothing in Danuta’s words was meant to stir emotion, yet some volunteers quietly wiped their eyes. Many understood from their own experience that sustaining charity work over time requires not only personal resolve but also the understanding and support of family and teammates.

For those in the classroom that winter day, first‑aid drills were not an abstract requirement but part of a much larger intention: to notice the person in front of them, and to be ready—when the power fails, when the siren is still far away—to stay by someone’s side and keep them here.

Written by Monica Chang (張淑兒)