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Intersection

Rainy night

Cmentarz

Rakowicki Cmentarz is a huge cemetery.

The afternoon was almost warm,

and before I knew it the gates were closing.

This is where we saw the All Saint's Day celebration in November,

with the beautiful lanterns lit for the deceased.

Running the Half

Not me!

Didn't know

that this was

going to happen,

but still am not

in shape for even a half.

Keith and I were out for a walk-run event of our own, and realized we were walking in the middle of this half marathon. Keith had forgotten to tell me that one of his colleagues was entered, that's Dariusz, in the black. In the states, this route would have been roped off, water stations every mile, and race attendants to make sure that no one crossed the path of a runner! But here the runners took in stride as people continuously crossed the walkway. Or stopped abruptly in front of them, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there was a race! We notice that there are several times like this where you are more or less expected to take responsibility for your own actions, and not have to be warned or 'protected' by barriers. Walking to the top of the Mounds here is one example. You can see one of the Mounds in the background. Narrow paths winding up around the hill, with no rail to keep you from being swept off by the wind, and tumbling down the sides. They aren't that tall, but I still want to hold on to the ground on my way up.

There will be a full marathon the first week end in May.

Any takers?

These runners were

taking in the sights.

Forsythia means Spring is here

Easter Morning

We woke up at 4:30 am in order to walk over to Kazimierz and attend the service at Corpus Christi church, Bozego Ciala. After a few days of winter precipitation, the clear moonlit sky was our first Easter blessing.

We arrived early enough that we could get seated near the back. We figured we wouldn't last the entire service, as it could be four hours. And, since we wouldn't understand exactly what was being said. It was fascinating to watch the nuns and parishioners enter the church. I'll try to describe it to you. I didn't take any photos, but was about to bust at the seams to do so! It was beautiful. So reverent, despite being a huge church, with so many people arriving, you literally could hear a pin drop. In the darkened Gothic church, the ladies, were busy placing the floats in the aisles. While way in the front I could see that many clergy were gathering in groups. The altar boys and several other children's groups, holding banners, all in formation. The floats were beautiful, figures of Jesus surrounded by flowers and covered with a canopy.

The ladies, and they weren't the young women of the congregation, hoisted the platforms up onto their shoulders, and the singing began. A very solemn tune, not familiar, words that floated by in the same unrecognizable way I've gotten used to.
And then, in the refrain of the hymn, that one word. The one word that united 3 Amerykanskis with the hundreds of Polskis in the church - "Alleluia"! Many times we have felt like outsiders in the last six months of living here, obviously. But shortly after 6 am, in a Catholic church in Eastern Europe I felt like I belonged. In a very foreign city, in the midst of a very unfamiliar denomination, hearing undecipherable words, we were a part of a congregation of worshipers on the most significant day of our Christian calendar. The atmosphere was stoic, but at the same time I was overwhelmed with that familiar 'peace that passes understanding'. We could say, and mean "Alleluia", right along with our Polish neighbors. Our second blessing of the day.

The congregation rose and we joined them in a procession around the outside of the church. This as I understand it, is to symbolize the search for the dead body of Christ. Once back inside the lights went on. Again symbolizing the light Christ brings to the world. The old church was illuminated and alive in the glint of the gilded niches and statues. Our spots in the back pews were now filled, and we found ourselves standing along the walls. At that point we slipped out a door, and headed back to Old Town and our friend's apartment for breakfast. (He said he was relieved that I hadn't whipped out my camera inside the church! He thinks I take too many photos!) I can think back on several meaningful worship experiences in my life. Brought up baptist, some revolve around revivals, some are the quiet, very private moments with God. And now, the memory of this Easter service, might conjure up that wonderful 'at home' feeling you have when you know you are loved. God lives here too, and we were just with some members of the family, giving thanks for our salvation. Our most important blessing of the day. "Alleluia"