Having a Good Friend is a Big Thing

She has ten siblings and sixteen nieces and nephews. She herself is a mother of three small children. Yet, she also sees Zuzka, a young girl from a children’s home whom she’s been seeing for almost four years, as part of her family. Zuzka is her friend. She is her BUDDY volunteer. Meet Ľudmila Uhrová.

I arrive in Malacky half an hour late.
My nerves are shot.
I missed the highway exit on my first attempt and ended up somewhere near Kúty.

I’m relieved the unexpected detour—what felt like a fitness test alongside holiday drivers on a Sunday afternoon—is finally over.
Getting out of the car, I nervously approach the meeting spot.

A slender woman in a gray jacket greets me at the castle park gate.
She smiles warmly and empathetically asks about my "trial by fire" on the road.
After a short chat, I hand her my phone with the recording app ready.

It’s a dry winter day, and the wind is sharp.
I silently pray the audio will capture more than just the sound of gusts.
We begin our walk.

Humanity in the Family

“Who is Ľudka?” I ask.
“Ľudka is a mom on maternity leave with three small children,” she answers readily.

In her early thirties, she holds a degree in chemistry and English teaching but hasn’t yet pursued a career. “I got married, children came along, and my priorities shifted,” she explains with a shrug.

“I come from a big family myself. We’re eleven siblings,” she says, catching me off guard.
She notices my surprise and quickly adds, “I know, it’s crazy.”

She laughs softly, her expression full of admiration as she speaks of her mother.
“I deeply admire her for what she’s accomplished. She had to give up everything for us, living entirely for her children. And it wasn’t just for three or four years—this went on for decades. It’s incredible,” she says, her voice filled with emotion.

She doesn’t need to convince me of the challenges of parenthood.
I only have a dog, and even that responsibility feels overwhelming at times.

“What’s the hardest part of being in such a large family?” I ask.
Without hesitation, she replies, “The routine—it’s brutal.”

She pauses for a moment before continuing.
“When the kids are little, you can’t escape the endless cycle of chores—laundry, ironing, cooking, raising them. And on top of that, there’s no visible progress. You clean, and it’s messy again within minutes. You cook, and it’s eaten just as quickly.”

Her laughter is quiet, almost shy.
“That’s why I sometimes feel tempted to return to work, at least part-time. I want to feel like I’m doing something beyond just changing diapers,” she says with a smile.

When the Time is Right

The BUDDY program caught Ľudka’s interest while she was still in university, but she hesitated to commit, unsure of where life would take her after graduation.
Years later, as a new mother with a three-month-old son, she rediscovered the program through an article in Nota Bene magazine.

Determined, she applied in September, ready to help another child despite the demands of her own life.
“I had my son in one arm and the desire to give my time and attention to another child in my heart,” she recalls.

A Strong Friendship

In the spring, she met Zuzka, a twelve-year-old girl who had been living in a children’s home, away from her parents and siblings, since early elementary school.
“Our first meeting was a little strange,” Ľudka admits with a chuckle. “We were supposed to ‘click’ right away, in front of a program coordinator and a psychologist. It was awkward.”

But once the formalities were over, they were given time to talk alone.
Somewhere in those first moments, a deep bond began to form.

“At first, Zuzka kept her distance. I didn’t take it personally. On the contrary, I saw it as a sign of her wisdom. It was hard to believe this mature, self-aware child was only twelve,” she says, her voice filled with admiration.

“In my experience, children in care homes grow up too quickly. They have to adapt, shake off challenges, and move forward,” she reflects.

Part of the Family

Over the years, Ľudka and Zuzka have shared countless experiences.
They cook and bake together.
They go swimming in the lakes during the summer and visit the cinema.
They’ve traveled to Prague and celebrated birthdays, name days, and graduations together.

“Our favorite thing, though, is just walking and talking, like we’re doing now,” Ľudka says with a soft laugh.
“We can have long, deep conversations about everything—boys, relationships, emotions, spirituality.”

During this time, Zuzka has also become close to Ľudka’s family.
“I wanted her to experience what it’s like to be part of a big family,” she says. “I wanted her to feel that sense of connection.”

The Test of Life

As we continue walking, Ľudka slows her pace, her tone growing serious.
“This past year has been tough,” she confesses.

She shares how her brother tragically passed away, followed by the loss of her husband’s godmother. Only days later, her brother-in-law’s wedding took place.
“We experienced a whirlwind of emotions—grief and joy, all at once,” she says.

Despite the hardships, she exudes a calm strength.
“It was during this time that I realized how much my relationship with Zuzka means. It’s not just about casual outings. We can talk about serious things too. She listens. She shows compassion,” Ľudka says, her voice steady.

After a moment, she adds, “Having a good friend is a big thing.”
I nod in agreement as her words linger in the crisp winter air.

A Life Full of Rules

I ask her about life in a children’s home. What must it be like for a young teenage girl to share her world with eight other children in a foster home?

Zuzka, I’m told, is exceptionally mature for her age. She understands and rationally accepts that returning to her biological family isn’t the best option.

She is grateful for what she has now:
Security.
Stability.

“Still, the environment she lives in has left its mark on her self-image,” Ľudka explains thoughtfully. “I sense she has little confidence in herself. She’s just as wary when it comes to forming relationships with strangers.”

In the foster home, the staff work hard to help the children develop independence. They involve them in daily tasks like cooking and housekeeping. By the age of fifteen, the children are given their own SIM cards and bank accounts, small but significant steps into adulthood.

It’s during these transitional moments that Ľudka steps in to help Zuzka navigate the complexities of the adult world.

“They really try to make the children feel happy in those homes,” Ľudka says. “But I can’t help feeling like they’ve spent their lives in a kind of camp. There’s always a set routine, rules that everyone has to follow.”

That’s why Ľudka takes every opportunity to offer Zuzka a taste of freedom—moments where she can make her own choices.

She tells me about the time she and her husband invited Zuzka to stay with them for a week during the holidays.

They prepared the guest room, cleaning and decorating it with care.
Their days were filled with simple joys: cooking, walking, playing cards. They visited Ľudka’s sister near Bratislava.
Ordinary things. Family things.

“I wanted her to feel like she had her own freedom,” Ľudka explains. “If she wanted to be alone in her room, draw, or write, that was fine. I wanted her to feel free to just be herself.”

Peace of Mind

Spending time with Ľudka is like stepping into a haven of calm. Her quiet, measured words and thoughtful demeanor are grounding.

Somehow, all the stress of my chaotic drive melts away as we walk and talk.

I ask her again about Zuzka, curious how she sees their relationship. Is Zuzka like a sister to her? Or perhaps an adopted daughter?
Ľudka pauses, her voice tinged with introspection.

“I don’t see myself as her parent,” she says softly. “It’s not my role to raise or educate her. Our relationship is more… friendly. Confidential. I don’t give her advice—I just gently guide her.“
“It feels like we’re on the same level. Me and her.
We’re friends.
Simply…
BUDDY,” she says with a laugh.

I laugh too, warmed by her humility and humor.
It’s the perfect way to end our conversation.

As we part at the entrance to the park, she kindly invites me to her home for tea.

I decline, knowing I have a long journey ahead.
Grateful and at peace, I get into my car, carrying her wisdom and kindness with me.

 

 

The name Zuzka was intentionally fabricated to protect the privacy of a minor.

Author: Simona Lučkaničová

Photographs: Paulína Ščepková