Krakow, Poland - Today I gave light in a way I never expected.
As I was walking home from my first Yiddish class this evening - think Fiddler on the Roof, but the real deal - I stopped by a huge church I hadn't yet explored. All the doors were shut and everything was so dark that, disappointed, I almost passed by the church. At the last minute I discovered that the door was open just a crack, so I pushed it the rest of the way open and went inside.
As has been happening frequently, I made it just in time for communion at an evening mass.
The church was absolutely gorgeous. Built in a Romanesque style, the ceiling front dome were painted with the most amazing biblical and angelic themes, and chandeliers hung, lighting the space beautifully. Many churches in Poland (and in Europe in general) are a conglomerate of different styles as a result of wealthy family donations and decorum changes throughout the different ages of the church. This church, however, struck me as different because everything seemed to fit together in an unusually matching way.
I quietly closed the door behind me and walked across the worn black-and-white checkered marble floor to a bench behind the very last pew. I was delighted to find a padded kneeler in front of me (VICTORY!). I sat through the mass (understanding just a little bit more in Polish than each mass before), enjoying the organ music (at daily mass!!) and following along with the hymns on the electronic projector in the front of the church.
After mass everyone went back up to the alter to receive a special blessing and prayer card from the group of seminarians who were seated at the front of the church during mass. I still have to translate the card, but I think it must have been a special service for the seminarians.
Anyway, I stayed after the special blessing and walked around the church to see the different alters dedicated to various Saints. A younger woman and an elderly lady had also stayed to pray.
I was just about to kneel near the painting of the Divine Mercy when suddenly, there was total darkness.
I've been in dark places before, but this was REALLY dark. I couldn't see anything. For a moment, I didn't know what to do. I turned and saw a green "EMERGANCY EXIT" sign, but did not want to set off any alarms. I thought of the young woman and the elderly lady; I didn't hear anyone leave and I knew they must still be inside. What was the old lady going to do? I was worried that I would trip on a pew or a statue; surely she wouldn't be able to get around, either.
I turned on my tiny and stone-aged Polish Nokia phone, which emitted a pathetic excuse for a light, and led myself back to the pews where the little old lady was. I wanted to say, "Ma'am? Are you there? Do you need help?" But of course I couldn't remember any of that in Polish, but remembering the word "light" from reading the creation story in my little Polish Bible (recommended for ages 5 - 7) a few nights before, I shined the light near her and said,
"Pani! Mam Światłość!" "Ma'am! I have light!"
"Oh! "Dziękuję bardzo pani!" "Oh! Thank you so much, Ma'am!" she exclaimed as I followed behind her with the light as she slowly walked out of the pew and inched her way towards the door. The other young woman was also using her phone, and soon two of the seminarians appeared with apologetic words and flashlights and helped lead us all out the rest of the way.
As we walked out of the church under the streetlights, I told the elderly lady that I was learning Polish and didn't understand much, but I tried to make sure she would be OK and wished her a pleasant evening. As little ladies do, however, she continued to speak to me in Polish for about the next ten minutes, and though I couldn't explicitly understand everything, from what I could gather she gave me well wishes and many, many thanks.
So that is how, my brothers and sisters, on this crisp October evening, I was able to give a little light in the darkness - in a most unexpected way.
Peace and all good,
Sonja