Into a tucked-away village on Bjelašnica this weekend poured all the lively joy of Tuzla – that sincere, childlike energy that fills a space and leaves a lasting trace. Two vans and two cars from the Home for Children without Parental Care Tuzla, full of excitement and anticipation, traveled nearly three hours to reach the Small Family Home in Ledići. Nineteen children, accompanied by five members of the professional team, arrived with one simple yet meaningful wish – to make the most of a sunny weekend in Ledići.

At the entrance to the yard, they were welcomed with smiles and care – Belma Mujezinović, Director of the Second Foundation, and Muhamed Musić, Director of the Home for Children without Parental Care Sarajevo, who had thoughtfully prepared their arrival days in advance. And they succeeded in what mattered most – from the very first step inside, the children felt calm. That special lightness of a space that doesn’t weigh you down, but embraces you. A house that looks beautiful in photos, but only in person reveals its true openness and warmth. They felt welcome. Like they were home.

The cook who came with them immediately recognized the kitchen as his space – smiling as he arranged the groceries, while the children naturally stepped in to help. They carried bags, organized, arranged – without many words, but with great care. In these small gestures, one could see the unity and upbringing they carry within them. Although their life paths are often shaped by challenging circumstances, these children carry values that rise above those conditions – values that could serve as an example to many.

When a space becomes a home

After settling in and arranging their rooms, they headed to the Ledići waterfall. The force of the water, cascading from a height of around ten meters, left both children and adults in awe. Laughter mixed with splashing drops as they tried to capture the perfect memory. In those moments, there was nothing but pure joy.

Their path then led them to the restaurant at Nesib’s place, where they were, as always, welcomed by dogs. This time, besides the three local dogs, another “guest” from the village of Ostojići joined them. He quickly became their loyal companion – following them closely, seeking affection, and not leaving even as they headed back to the house. As if he recognized their need for closeness and chose to be part of their story. To the joy of the children, and the quiet smiles of the adults watching it all unfold.

The cats quietly withdrew that day, as if knowing it was the dog’s turn to be in the spotlight. The yard filled with play – balls, rackets, running, laughter. Every moment was fully lived.

Joy in the simplest moments

The next day, they set out on a trip outside Ledići, and their four-legged friend ran after them, unwilling to let them go. But upon their return, he was gone – back to his owner, while the cats once again took over the space. Gentle, calm, ready for affection and quiet presence. A barbecue was already being prepared in the yard, and the day gained another special layer – one boy was celebrating his 15th birthday. The cakes brought from Sarajevo were more than a sweet surprise – they were a sign that someone cares, that they matter, that their days are worth celebrating.

Three days were simply not enough for everything these children experienced – not just through activities, but through the emotions that settled within them. On the very first morning, one girl quietly said she would love to live here. A sentence often heard from children after spending a night in the Small Family Home. Because Ledići is not just a place – it is a sense of belonging.

Before leaving, they left behind drawings and messages that now decorate the living room walls. Honest, pure, unfiltered – messages only children can write:

“Thank you so much for everything. Everything was so magical and beautiful. We truly appreciate your effort and kindness for welcoming us into such a beautiful home. We appreciate you very, very much. Thank you once again.”

Some words remain on paper, while others quietly settle into the space and within people.

This was perhaps best described by a man who lives Ledići every day. A local farmer, from whom we buy milk and cheese for the children, said after their departure:

“The village feels somehow lifeless without children… They always bring it back to life.”

And truly – they do. For a few days. And then they leave behind a silence that reminds us just how much they filled it.