Dear friends, this Saturday our Russian House hosted a unique event dedicated to the 80th anniversary of the Great Victory.
You’re already used to hearing songs and poetry on the stage of the Russian House. Renowned artists often visit us. But this time, it was different.
A few months ago, mothers who regularly come to the Russian House had the idea to organize a small, intimate event dedicated to Victory Day—an event that would involve themselves and their children.
This modest idea grew into a full-fledged performance with two parts and an intermission. But let’s take it step by step.
How did we prepare? First, we called out for participants. Not everyone who joined at first made it to the end—some dropped out, others joined later. The final group was formed a month before the event, and during the three full rehearsals, we never managed to gather everyone at once. There were good reasons, though.
Some children study in Flemish schools, others in French-speaking ones, with holidays at different times. And the participants weren’t only from Brussels. We pieced together the performance from what we had.
The performers shared stories from their families. Children spoke about their great-grandfathers who were part of those historical events. That’s why the event was titled “True Stories”, because each story was unique and real—not from books or screens, but from family archives. War-era photos were also shared from those same archives.
The children and parents didn’t just tell stories—they prepared seriously: learning dances, songs, and performance pieces. On stage, we heard “Smuglyanka” and “Valenki,” accompanied by dancing. “Dark Night” and “Battalion” were played with guitar, and everyone sang along to the soloist performing “Katyusha.” Tears welled up during Simonov’s poem “Wait for Me.” The final bow came under the song “Victory Day.”
The show turned out better than expected. Thanks to everyone who performed and everyone who came to support.
After the performance, everyone was treated to sweets, tea, and… delicious soldier’s porridge. The children devoured it and asked for seconds.
No one wanted to leave. People took lots of photos, discussed how it all went, and started making future plans.
– “Please do it again, I’ll bring my friends next time,” said one guest.
– “It was… I’m so full of emotion I can’t even speak,” said another, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
And from all sides: “Thank you,” “Thank you,” “Thank you.”
Yes, it was deeply touching and unforgettable.