Eva Eva was three when we met her. A curly-haired baby seated in the back seat of her mother’s car, she kept rocking back and forth, like a pendulum. At the time, they had just found out about her diagnosis—autism. Eva resided with her mother and father in a small village in the Tyumen region that only had a regular Kindergarten, a secondary school and a small local clinic with limited number of medical services and specialists. There were no tutors, special education teachers or neuropsychologists. They had no one there who could help them.
When Eva turned seven, the family left their native town, jobs, family and friends and moved to Tyumen in the hope of finding professional help. They settled down in a rented apartment on the second floor, sent out a school application, and found specialized medical professionals, namely, a neuropsychologist and a speech pathologist. But they couldn’t afford regular sessions with them. They were terribly short of cash. Eva’s was a difficult case, so her mother had to stay with her. They had to rely solely on their father’s occasional work.
And then, their landlady decided to sell the apartment. They were forced to look for a new place to live. They did find one, but on the top floor of a high-rise building. Not every landlord was willing to let in tenants with the disabled child, one who was barely sleeping at night, moved randomly around the apartment, pounded on things and screamed. If you have ever interacted with autistic people, you would know that every change places an immense stress on them. A new space, an unfamiliar car, or an elevator ride can trigger all-consuming terror in them. They’d just drop on the ground and sit there, and no one would be able to move them. On top of that, the child does grow bigger and you can’t simply carry her in your arms. Eva is already eleven, a big girl. Does this cause a problem? Absolutely!
When we at the “Blago V Dar” (“Goodness for Free”) foundation took up the collection for Eva’s rehabilitation, we had set several goals. One of them was quite specific—to ensure that Eva enters the elevator and stays there. This was our task, quite simple and clear. Three months of regular training sessions using the funds we have raised helped to solve her problem. On top of that, Eva began to listen, to hear and to follow instructions, to concentrate her attention on the task at hand, and stopped moving around randomly and aimlessly. But, probably, the most important and striking event of those three months was her first word. Just think of it—the child was silent for eleven years (aside from her screams and vocalization). And then she said something! Wasn’t that a victory?
But what if they had started treatment earlier? Or, what if it was systematic, comprehensive and regular? How many new skills would Eva have learned? And how many could she retain? Or, how many other children with complex diagnoses could get such a chance?
According to Rosstat Federal State Statistics Service, the number of children recognized as disabled is constantly growing in Russia. At the end of 2022, there were about 729,000 of them. In 2023, they already amounted to 755,000, and in 2024, to 779,000 children. The statistics speaks for themselves: the problem is growing more and more serious. This means that families with special needs children are in need of our help more than ever.
Just think of it: the child was silent for eleven years. And then she said something! Wasn’t it a victory?
This fact has also been confirmed by the results of our own research we conducted in 2025. The study involved parents from different regions of our country who were raising children with disabilities aged under eighteen, with various diagnoses. According to the parents, the existing rehabilitation system is far from perfect. Besides, it’s simply not available in remote regions of our country. For example, Eva and her mother were able to get to a sanitorium only once. Our conversation went as follows:
“Lusia (that’s Eva’s mother’s name), how are things with rehabilitation using the compulsory medical insurance?”
“There are long waiting lists to get it. Well, we managed to get to the sanitorium once, for a three week stay.”
Once—in Eva’s entire life. For three weeks! What is it for an autistic person? No matter how well they worked there, or how experienced were the specialists, three weeks meant nothing. What about the rest of her life?
Statistically, it looks as follows: 91.2 percen of parents consider the government aid system to be underdeveloped; 83.8 percent rate the private care likewise; more than half of the parents aren’t satisfied with the regularity and the quality of support.
The vast majority of mothers and fathers surveyed are facing financial problems related to the support and treatment of their child. Many parents are forced to give up their jobs, the family budget is scaled back, while, on the contrary, the cost of specialized medical services is on the rise annually.
That’s why we focused our attention on the primary goal, as we saw it—we were to collect charitable donations and pay for the diagnostics and the rehabilitation in the amount that wasn’t available under compulsory health insurance, but which was necessary to unlock the rehabilitation potential in children. One part came from state guarantees, another from the parents’ personal funds and efforts of, and finally, charitable donations and services. All of these links had to be taken into account. If rehabilitation is interrupted, the child’s rehabilitation potential won’t be realized and the chances of his or her more or less productive and independent life are drastically reduced.
If rehabilitation is interrupted, the child’s rehabilitation potential won’t be realized and the chances of his or her more or less productive and independent life are drastically reduced
As for the potential, every child has it. For more than two years of the existence of our “Blago v Dar” foundation, we became convinced of it many times. There were twenty-five different children and more than fifty rehabilitation treatment courses organized and paid for by our foundation. We remembered each child by name. We knew what he or she had to endure and what hurdles they had to overcome—including those overcome with our assistance.
A young musician named Misha who has cerebral palsy is currently rehearsing a performance with a professional philharmonic orchestra. A talented artist named Vera with mental retardation, whose works are now a part of the art exhibits. But there was a time when she was turned down at a secondary art school, with the reason for refusal being her diagnosis and her age of fourteen years old. Andreika had paracephalia and a congenital heart defect, but he learned how to chew. He couldn’t do it for eight years—and then suddenly he did… But this “suddenly” has been the result of a massive long-term intervention of a large group of people: his family, medical specialists, benefactors…
We have a number of such stories in our “piggy bank” of good deeds growing every month. Anyutka, Katyusha, Vika, San’ka, Deniska... Children are on a waiting list that stretches until 2030. We have undertaken our mission of helping children with special needs, and we make every possible effort to fulfill it with dignity—with love for the children and with respect for their parents! We would be grateful if you would help us in our work here: https://www.bf-blagovdar.ru/#donation
