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A MEMORABLE TRIP – Part 3 (continued from August/September)
What a bus ride! I took this mode of transportation for two reasons: to experience the country side and to save money. Where else could you get a three hour bus ride for five dollars? I really got what I paid for – I was squished in a 20-passenger bus with up to thirty-one other people! It was very interesting to try to breathe between fresh market fish, warm chicken eggs, baskets of ever-so-fragrant strawberries and bunches of newly harvested onions. This was an experience of a lifetime as students boarded the bus on their way home from school, employees returned from work and women hurried home from the market to prepare the family meal. Up and down the rolling hillside we went, stopping at every little village. Up the mountains and down the valleys, sometimes with breath-taking speed and always with squealing brakes, while chickens flew out of the way outside.
We arrived at Wadowice, the birthplace of the late Pope John Paul II, in the midst of a horrible rain storm which, by the grace of God, evaporated into nothingness within 20 minutes or so. Under the blue sky and shining sun, I made my way to the town centre to visit the house where Karol was born and raised and to touch the fountain in which he was baptized. I knelt beside the Baptismal Font and prayed to Venerable John Paul II. At times like this, it is very easy to lose track of time and to swoon into a heavenly realm. It was also awesome to roam through the rooms of his youth, to see articles of his clothing and many pictures depicting various stages of his life. I was particularly drawn to a glass closet in which hung his priestly robes. Karol went from Priest to Bishop to Cardinal to Pope – how proud his humble parents must have been!
From there, I went by taxi to Kalwaria, the Bernadines' Sanctuary of the Franciscan Friars Minor. It had been one of Karol's favourite places where he spent countless hours praying and hiking. I arrived just in time for evening Adoration of the Most Blessed Sacrament, Vespers and Holy Mass – a pleasant way to end this Saturday. After a restful sleep, I attended an early morning Mass followed by a four and a half hour Stations of the Cross. WOW! Down the the mountain, across the valley, up the mountain, across the ridge, over bridges, rocks and meadows, in the shade of poplars and through apple orchards. What an experience! We traveled from one mountain to the next, from own town to the next, from one Church to the next. I went up the Holy Stairs on my knees, kissing the embedded relic from the Holy Land each step of the way. Young and old, whole families sang and prayed. Three different groups, each with between 40 and 60 people, had left the Sanctuary at the same time, traveling in different directions. At one point, I could hear the echoes of the other groups – what an angelic sound! The hills were truly alive with the sound of music. It was like Paradise to me; I wanted to stop and listen, but we had to go on. “Onward Christian soldier” came to my mind as we continued on our way.
One of the Sisters later asked me what I experienced. The answer to this question was not an easy one, as the whole Passion Story, the meditations and songs were naturally all in Polish. As an “outsider”, I felt abandoned and alone, just as Jesus might have felt during His walk to Calvary. There were those highlights that I mentioned earlier, but overall it was a painful and sobering experience, one which touched the innermost depths of my being. Praised be the Lord, Jesus Christ!
Upon my return to the Sanctuary, I took a taxi to the train station for my trip back to Krakow and then on to Warsaw, arriving at 6:30 in the evening. Early in the morning, it was on to Swinice and Glogowiec, a two and a half hour ride by car. I would like to share with you my journal entry for that day.
You,
O Lord, are so good to me! My heart does not stop jumping out of my chest – or
perhaps it is my soul longing to be ever so intimately united with You. The
ride seemed so short as You gently caressed my heart, making my senses aware of
the beauty around me which You so lovingly created. Upon entering the little
village of Swinice-Warckie, I was increasingly aware that I have to become a
little child like Helena Kowalska in order to snuggle even closer to Your most
sweet Heart. As I opened the door to her family home, I felt compelled to
kneel down and kiss the threshold Faustina crossed for so many years as a
child. Awesome, awesome are You, Father of Heaven and earth! You give to the
little ones what no one can imagine. You, the Creator of every being, You knew
us before the seed became the fruit and You hold us in the palm of Your Hand!
Awesome, awesome God! As a child, I walked into this house, aware of the life
which once grew there, the family's love and prayers, the care and concern of
everyone in this household. You play their lives in front of my soul's eyes as
if I were actually present with them. O my Lord, you invited me to sit and meditate
under the very tree where Helena swooned in your love, not hearing her mother's
call. I, too, swooned, sinking into Your gracious Heart for more than an
hour. For You, my sweet Jesus, time does not exist. I moved on to drink water
from the well where Helena drank and then walked back along the road where
Helena would have pastured the family's cows. In the distance, I heard the
bells from the new Convent of the Sisters of Our Lady of Mercy and when I
arrived there, You, my Lord, greeted me with the smiles of Sister Vincenta (the
cook and my translator) and Mother Superior Mirostawa. You are truly present
there, my Lord, not only in the beautifully decorated Divine Mercy Chapel, but
even more so in the lives of the Sisters. At every step, they radiate Your
love onto everyone they meet. My Jesus, how much better this world would be if
more people would embrace You in this way! There was overwhelming joy as we
sat together, looking at pictures of Your Canadian Divine Mercy Centre and
gratitude in knowing that we were truly one in You. May Your Holy Name be
praised forevermore, my Lord! How can I, weak as I am, contain all of this?
Sister Vincenta directed me down the road to visit the grave of Saint Faustina’s parents, where I was forced to sit down, for the presence of truly holy souls overcame me. Praised be the Lord Jesus Christ! (to be continued)
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