Sept. 25, 2016

Hello!

The Polish/Slovak traveler is back from her travels.  Here are some of the details from my trip….

I was nervous about navigating through O’Hare.  Mike drove me to the terminal so I had a chance to give the big guy a hug and kiss on the cheek before heading out.  I’m sure he knew his mom wouldn’t leave without that!  I’m more nervous about going through O’Hare than I am about flying.  It’s nuts, but I genuinely don’t like it.

At the terminal, I made the acquaintance of a young man who was flying to Warsaw and then on to Russia for international studies.  He was a little, diminutive, back woods kind of guy from Tennessee.  Poor thing really had quite the adventure in front of him.  I think he liked talking to me; he said I made him feel calm.  Basically, I adopted him, especially since I didn’t know anyone else and he was sitting right next to me as we waited for everything to open.  He honestly helped me as much as I helped him, except I couldn’t tell him that because I was supposed to be the calming influence.  LOL!

We arrived in Warsaw and I was bone-weary.  I did nap a bit on the plane, but it was fitful at best.  The flight was very smooth and the food was very good – no mushrooms/no eggs/no fish/no cottage cheese!  Perfect for me!

The description above pretty much says it all.  Warsaw was almost completely destroyed during the war.  The people make no bones about stating what has been reconstructed.  The city is amazing.  There are signs and statues that are silent but poignant reminders of the heroism that the Polish people displayed in their resistance.

I was so tired this first day that I didn’t take many pictures of Warsaw at all.  It’s to my regret, but there was so much more to the trip.

Fr. Jerzy’s story is so heroic.  We visited the church and also the tomb and memorial.  A large outdoor rosary made of large stone beads encircles his memorial.  It was so big that I didn’t realize that it was a rosary at first.  Once I stepped back, I could see it.

         

We went to the convent where St. Faustina was accepted.  It was reconstructed; very simple, very beautiful.  The bus then took us to Niepokalanow, where we had Mass in the original little, all-wooden chapel.

It was remarkable to think of all the people who filled that chapel in its heyday; numbered in the hundreds.  The chapel had such a sacredness in its simplicity.  St. Max’s cell (his room) was very, very simple.  Niepokalanow is quite a little city!  It is where St. Max started his publications to evangelize, which eventually became world-wide.

      

We had Mass in the Basilica that is pictured above.  Our group had the privilege of sitting right alongside the altar, which is usually reserved for the religious.

The hotel was pleasant and the room was simple.  The food was terrific.  I can easily make that comment about every place we stayed.  Ironically, the food in the 5-star hotel where we stayed at the end had very good food, but it didn’t compare to the excellent food we had along the way.

It was here at St. Matthew’s Church at the Altar of Our Lady of Victories in Pabianice that I made my singing debut.  At every Mass a volunteer was chosen to do the psalm & reading.  On Thursday afternoon, I told Juan, our tour leader, that I wanted to do the psalm and reading for the next day.  He seemed a bit surprised because it was a little like pulling teeth to get folks to volunteer; he asked me to remind him the next day.  I sure did.

I debated on whether to follow through with my plan.  I figured that there is a time to ask permission and a time to ask forgiveness.  The worst that could happen would be that I would get chastised by the priest and the leader and not be allowed to do it again.

I did the reading with no problem, having been a lector for multiple years.  Then I paused, as is custom.  I said a small prayer to St. Anthony & St. Paul and then launched into singing the psalm as an a Capella solo instead of reciting it.  At one point during the psalm, I was able to look up and I saw 30 sets of big eyes; they looked shocked.  The deacon and priest were on the altar with me.  I looked to the priest for the signal to start the Gospel Acclamation, which I also sung.

This effectively launched my little singing career throughout the rest of the trip!  People were astonished and told me that I had a beautiful voice.  This is always a bit unsettling to me because I cannot hear what they hear.  I’m most grateful for the comments because it’s the only way I know if I’m on track.  I literally cannot hear what the others hear!  I tell them that it’s Holy Spirit Who they hear.  I don’t think they believe me, but it’s important for me to deflect the compliments to Him.  Criticisms are all mine; I own those!

The leader said he could hardly believe that such a beautiful voice could come from someone so little and quiet.  It became my “task” to sing the psalm and Gospel Acclamation for the duration.  I LOVED DOING IT!  This was my “Carnegie Hall” moment in the sun for The Son.  The real Carnegie Hall would be a piece of cake for me; of this, I am absolutely convinced.  Of course, I absolutely KNOW that this was and is a gift from the Holy Spirit!  I give Him all due credit because I am His instrument to use as He chooses.

       

We saw where St. Maximilian (Raymond Kolbe) was born and raised.  There were some authentic pieces of furniture as well as some reproductions.  The guide pointed out what was what.  All of it blended so well.  I touched my rosary to one of the authentic pieces.  There were relics for veneration throughout the trip.

Because the trip was designed by the Militia Immaculata, we were given a few surprise privileges.  One of them was to have Mass said before the icon of Our Lady of Czestochowa.  It was phenomenal!  Our Franciscan priest was just ordained in June so this was all new for him as well.  We were both given great gifts!

The Retreat House was very clean, very simple, and a lovely place in the country.  The food was outstanding, to say the least.  During our last night there, I asked the tour leader and the local tour leader if it would be out of line to sing a Polish song to the volunteers as a way of saying “thank you” for their wonderful hospitality.  Both thought it would be beautiful.  I sang the first verse of Serdeczna Matko in Polish and then the same verse in English.  It was a most joyful experience for me.  The other pilgrims didn’t realize that I was of Polish descent.  They asked me if I knew Polish, which I don’t.

There was an outdoor Way of the Cross and I had some free time to walk alone and pray the Stations.  I was a little surprised that no one came out there, but it was a happy time for me to be alone and pray.  I learned later in conversation with the priest that he viewed me as being quite a contemplative.  He said it was his observation of me. (I had asked.)  That young man, younger than my son, has an amazing wisdom and calmness about him.  He is far wiser than his chronological years; of this, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind.  The Holy Spirit has a strong influence in his life; thanks be to God!  The youth gravitated to him; so did everyone else!

We had Mass in the simple chapel at the Retreat House, then boarded the bus to Auschwitz.  There is a somber heaviness there.  As Militia Immaculata, we were privileged to actually step into the starvation bunker where St. Maximilian Kolbe had volunteered to go in the place of the family man who was so upset and resistant.  The room is always closed off; people can peer into it through a window made in the door.  A most humbling, prayerful, and phenomenal moment…  I cannot begin to describe what took place in the depths of my soul.

The Museum / Memorial comprises two parts of the Auschwitz complex – the main camp (Auschwitz I) in Oswiecim and the Birkenau camp (Auschwitz II) in Brzezinka.  These two camps cover about 190 hectares of land.  There were sub-camps, but ultimately it was decided to keep these two as part of the official Museum and given protection status.

There is an area in one of the buildings that houses almost two tons of human hair shaven from the victims.  It is behind glass and can be seen.  Out of respect, people are asked not to take pictures.  I have a book that has this image; regardless, it is forever seared into my mind.  Aside from its relative functionality, hair (or lack thereof) helps to identify us.  Another dehumanizing method….

There is so much.  I cannot begin to describe what I saw in detail; my memory would fill a book.

The bus then took us down the road to Birkenau.  To stand on the tracks, on the platform…

We returned to Birkenau; it is a huge complex.  The men were on one side of the tracks and the women and children placed on the other side.  The crematoria were further down the road in the back by the trees.  Those poor souls – the sick, the weak, the elderly, and anyone else deemed unsuitable – were sent directly to the back to be killed – all by the flick of a finger, an instant decision.

We saw the toilet area.   It was so humiliating.  Can you imagine sitting over a hole (just like an outhouse, but with no walls) with 90+ other people doing the same thing with no privacy whatsoever?  Being forced to “go” at times dictated with the threat of beatings for inadvertently soiling oneself…  So dehumanizing…  Again, far too much to write.

   

We also went into the bunker where the children stayed.  It was heartbreaking.  While in Auschwitz I, I stopped in a hallway and happened to look at the early ID pictures (there were many rows down the very long hall.)  Directly at my eye level, side by side, were ID pictures of two young girls who were apparently twins.  I shuddered and asked Mother to hug them.  Heaven is outside of time.  I believe She did hug them.

I captured this picture because this was the family name of my widowed maternal grandmother’s second husband.  For all the pictures down that very long wing, I happened to stop and be greeted by this one.  Kowalski is a relatively common name so I didn’t immediately think in terms of familial ties to my step-grandfather.

     

     

After dinner, we went back and did the Way of the Cross around the periphery of the women and children’s side of the camp; someone said it was about five miles.  When the Nazis realized that they were losing, they dismantled buildings and dynamited whatever they could.

We walked past the area where Mengele performed his heinous experiments.  We walked past the rubble piles that once were the crematoria.  The guard towers still stand.  The barbed wire still intact…  Much, much prayer…  How men can cause so much atrocity is beyond reckoning.  Demonic is the only word applicable in my mind.

At the retreat house, there was a church with a museum in its basement.  It was utterly haunting.  The works were done by one man, a survivor of the camps.  As you walk in, you get the feeling of entering inside the freight train wagon.  Again, there is a long story; one that must be remembered and recalled.

I am normally not given to bad dreams; that night, just as I closed my eyes, I saw some of the faces from the drawings.  These demonic acts must never happen again…. Have we learned anything?  I wonder.  What atrocities are being caused by ISIS?  What about the horrors of North Korea?  Christian Solidarity Worldwide is now sharing some of the details of what is happening to Christians in North Korea.  I checked out the website.  There is so much horror in the world.  Please educate yourself.  We must continue to pray, pray, pray!

We said good-bye to Auschwitz – changed forever by our experiences.  Prayers and shared meditation on the bus helped to lighten my mood somewhat.  Once we got into Wadowice, I slowly got caught up in the present moment.  We visited the birthplace of Karol Wojtyla.  If there is any chance for you, I say it is time well spent to learn about his life; it’s very full and quite remarkable.  The Basilica of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary is very beautiful.  The Museum of the Holy Father John Paul II Family Home is very remarkable.  The exterior is quite unassuming relative to the awesome richness found inside.

     

     

     

     

The city of Krakow is remarkable in its architecture and its cosmopolitan environment.  The city was preserved from WWII bombing because the Nazis used Krakow as their headquarters.  We saw very many sites; the Bugler from St. Mary’s tower was awesome.  Every hour an actual trumpeter plays the Hejnal; it is stopped short to commemorate the legendary death of a trumpeter in the Middle Ages who was shot by an enemy arrow.  He plays in the four directions and then waves at the admirers below each time. Afterwards, five of us pitched in and rented a clean and decorated horse carriage to go around the town; it was fun.  Everything was so clean; a Polish hallmark, I’m proud to say!

     

     

Lagiewniki is very serene, very beautiful.  Mass was celebrated in the chapel dedicated to St. Faustina in the lower level of the Basilica.  We were blessed to be able to pray the Chaplet of Divine Mercy in the original convent chapel that contained St. Faustina’s tomb/relics and also the miracle-working image of the Merciful Jesus.

The St. JP II Center is very new; some of it not even opened yet.  The mosaics were lovely.  I would be most interested to visit it again in a few years to see the progress that I know will be made.

The Salt Mines of Weiliczka were huge and amazing.  Words pale in their description.  I was introduced to the story of St. Kinga.  Hopefully, I remembered the following correctly:  the mine opened in the 13^th century and stopped producing salt in 2007.  The mine is a little over 300 meters deep and about 180 miles long.  Princess Kinga was a Hungarian noblewoman engaged to the prince of Krakow.  She threw her engagement ring into one of the Hungarian salt mines before leaving for Poland.  (I don’t think anyone knows why exactly.)  When she got to Krakow, she asked the miners to dig a deep hole until they hit a rock.  There they found a lump of salt, which they split in two.  The princess’s ring was found.  Kinga eventually became the patron saint of salt miners.

There is a huge chapel and a reception room that is currently used for private functions.  The space can hold between 400-500 people.  There is an underground lake located about 440 ft. underground.   These are just highlights.

       

        

               

It took us quite a long time to get to Zakopane.  A huge traffic jam didn’t help matters.  Once we arrived, we knew it was well worth the journey.  All of it was lovely.

I was sad to leave Poland.  It would be wonderful to return for another visit, but at least I know that I have very special memories.  This was a phenomenal pilgrimage and I am most grateful that I was privileged in being able to partake.

I have prayed specifically for family, friends, and for our priests as well as a few private intentions.  We are in desperate need of priests.  In my opinion, our young, newly ordained priests over the past few years are heroic in their decision to follow their calling.  I single out the priests for one primary reason:  “No priest, no Eucharist.”

Satan has a particular hatred for these brave, heroic men – our beloved priests – and he goes out of his way to beleaguer them at every instance.  All priests need the support of the laity and vice versa.  We all need each other as we form the Body of Christ.  Ephesians 4:11-16.

I pray that Catholics awake from their deep slumber of ignorance and apathy and prepare for the spiritual fight that takes place even as I write.  We know how this ends because Our Christ is Victorious; we just need to do our part.

While I’m on the subject, I ask you, please, to pray for the following priests:  Fr. Jose Alfredo Lopez Guillen, Fr. Alejo Nabor Jimenez Juarez, and Fr. Jose Alfredo Juarez del la Cruz.  These three priests in Mexico were murdered in this past week.

So you have now gotten quite the eyeful of this amazing journey as seen through one pilgrim’s eyes.  Imagine that each of the 33 of us has a unique story of how these events unfolded in each of our lives.  God works in such wondrous ways!

Take good care and know that you are always in my prayers.