Polska, Polska, Polska: Head Awake & Heart Ablaze

A blog post by Leanna Praetzel, Fall 2011

Skipping down the sidewalks of Czestachowa, Poland at 6:30 in the morning after an overnight bus ride, clapping and singing the only Polish song you know (Sto lat!) over and over again: that’s the best way to know who your true friends are.  At least… it is from my experiences, anyway.  Many students were suffering the effects of sleep deprivation—and rightfully so!  A bus is difficult enough to be comfortable on whilst passengers are awake, let alone asleep (or at least trying to be).  But with a mix of sufficient shut-eye (thanks to the semi-comfy sleeping spot I claimed on the bus’s floor) along with the Polish blood fervently pulsing through my veins, I found myself ecstatic on the streets of Czestachowa, head awake and heart ablaze.

I suppose the unveiling of the Black Madonna also contributed to my unusual alertness at such an early hour Friday morning.  A miraculous image of Mary and the infant Jesus painted by St. Luke on top of a table that Jesus built?  Yes please!  Of course I couldn’t pass up a tour given by a pleasant and quite comical German priest either; He took us around the fortress that housed the Black Madonna to see hidden chapels, statues, and even a treasure room containing the First Holy Communion veil of St. Thérèse.

From Czestachowa our bus turned its wheels toward the infamous Auschwitz—a place I was uneasy about going to.  Eighth grade history class had pounded the Holocaust into my sensitive self so forcefully, I felt sad and guilty very often.  I frequently wondered why we had to learn about the Holocaust in the first place.  Needless to say, Auschwitz was not on the top of my to-do list.  But I went anyway… and I’m glad I did.

The concentration camp existed.  It was there, where I stood, brick on brick.  It was the solid, enduring evidence of the terrible fate of many innocent people.  But the mounds of piled shoes, suitcases, and more were not placed on display to make us cry; on the contrary, they served, in my eyes, as a memorial to those who died.  Each picture and flower, building and stone had its place on the grounds of Auschwitz, reverently pointing towards the victims.  This helped me to see the Holocaust as not something that requires constant sorrow (although, as we are human, some sensitivity must indeed be felt), but rather as something that simply needs to be remembered.

Not to mention that in the dark tunnel of Auschwitz I found a surprise light—Maximilian Kolbe.  Talk about joy!  This saint took another man’s place in being sentenced to starvation, and still sang hearty praises to God.  I never imagined a concentration camp to contain a square inch of happiness, and yet, upon seeing St. Maximilian’s cell, I couldn’t help but smile.

Of course, nothing says a happy ending to our Poland trip quite like the Divine Mercy Shrine in Krakow.  One of the sisters from the shrine gave a wonderful talk reaffirming the outstanding joy that can come through suffering.  The talk also described the extreme power of Divine Mercy: during his final days of living, Nazi commander Rudolf Höss, convicted for ruthlessly murdering the lives of millions, made a 180-degree turn.  Upon finally realizing the gravity of his sin, Höss wrote Poland a profound apology letter and sincerely asked God for forgiveness.  Along with many people, I believe this man has been forgiven... What are the sands of sin in comparison to the vast ocean of God's mercy?

Our final stop, Blessed Pope John Paul II’s hometown of Wadowice, quite literally provided the icing on the cake.  Ever since he was a boy, JP II was absolutely crazy about the pastry “kremówka”.  Now, vendors in Wadowice market the delectable “Pope Cake” dessert to sweet-toothed tourists like me.  So, a plastic fork and a powdered sugar-covered scarf later, I was ready to once again roam the lovely streets of Polska, but this time the same ones that Karol Wojtyla himself roamed as a child.  I felt very fortunate, especially when I was able to touch his baptismal font!

Truthfully, I was saddened when boarding the Gaming-bound bus—Poland was so full of vibrant life!  But I knew that I will value my time spent there for decades to come.