Relief flooded me when I spotted the two Sisters, Matka Janina (the provincial) and Sister Malgosia at the Rzeszow Airport,  and to our mutual relief, we could understand each other. After an hour's drive to Przesmyl, we entered this huge convent in which I needed Mapquest to find my way.  Despite my earlier anxiety, I fit right in easily. Trying to be sensitive to the Sisters in their traditional habits, I dressed in a long brown skirt and a simple sweater.  I looked just like one of their postulants, only I was wearing purple Ugg boots borrowed from a friend.  (Postulancy is the first step of a young woman who wants to become a Sister).  After meeting all the Sisters, novices and postulants, we sat down for my first Polish meal.  Thoughts of homemade pierogi danced in my head, but I dined on a very delicious personal pizza while a Ketchup bottle was lovingly placed on the table.  All done in order to make me, the American,  feel right at home.

A Ukrainian refugee with four children was staying overnight in a bedroom  adjacent to my guest room.  Earlier in the evening, I had seen her talking on the phone and she had a very painful sad look on her face. Later, Sister Christina who speaks Ukrainian told me that the young mother just found out her house was completely destroyed.  That night her baby's wails expressed the anguish she was hiding from her children but was revealed in her furrowed brows and downturned mouth.  I grabbed some donations from my suitcase and knocked hesitantly on her door.  Although we couldn't communicate verbally, I handed her the toys and the lollipops and her face lit up.  One of her little ones shyly peeked around her legs with the most cherubic smile, and then bashfully scampered away. No words were spoken, but much was communicated.  If this is the only encounter of this trip, my tiredness was well worth the journey.

At 6:30 Mass this morning, the familiar Polish responses from my childhood came back to me and I could pray aloud with the community. When we sang the Lamb of God, the words were imbued with new meaning.  "Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us."   I've never sang these words with such conviction and pleading.  How do human beings inflict such pain on each other? Aren't these mothers and children,  the innocent lambs of God, the very face of Jesus to those who recognize Him?  Let us pray the ending of this sacred litany in the name of the Ukrainian people and for the relief of fear particularly among the Polish people who wonder if they are next.  Together, we pray "Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, grant us your peace".