Today we had lunch with a small group of girls escaping the office for a moment. One of the girls, who I have gotten to know a little in the last months, started telling a few stories from her home country of Ukraine. She was explaining little stories of the hardship, the struggle, and the bravery of the people. She had recently had a shock when visiting there, and realizing the price of bread and yoghurt had multiplied by fivefold. She has told some stories before and if it wasn’t for her, I would probably be mainly in the dark about the whole situation apart from the little coverage it gets on TV — which is shocking in itself.

You could sense the pain and suffering that the people are going through while listening to her; you could see the reflection of pain in her eyes.

But then, suddenly, she looked up and her whole face was shining. She pointed to whatever she was looking at, and we all turned our sights.

There it was, on top of a high building opposite of us, boldly as anything — the Blue and Yellow Ukrainian flag, waving in the wind, against the bright blue Barcelona sky.

The joy, and hope in her eyes, the sight of that flag appearing from nowhere as it seemed — no words.

It was as if the universe was talking.