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By Testimony,
My friend knew that I was an atheist, but didn’t try to convert me or convince me by force. Her life was her witness.
I grew up in the kind of family that I could wish for anyone, and I was absolutely convinced of that for many years. I had loving parents and grandparents, wonderful aunts, and an older sister, who at two years older was as protective of me as a second mother, she was a confidante to my little secrets and childhood “plots”. Our parents taught us love and mutual respect, they were supportive of us and models to be followed. We adored them, especially our father, who for us girls was the ideal man. We never heard parental arguments at home; if they had disagreements over anything, they sat down over coffee and discussed it until one of them was convinced by the reasoning of the other. A portrait of their beautiful love emerged from the stories that we sometimes heard; love at first sight, a feeling that endured unabated through the years. We grew up seeing how they embraced each other at every opportunity, how as time went by their tenderness didn’t ebb, but rather increased. It was simply beautiful!
When we were small our world was our beloved parents, a small but cozy apartment in Gdynia, a playground near the apartment, and the beach and the sound of the surf in the summertime. Dad was an officer, a commander in the Marines. He sailed out, and came back, and sailed out, and came back, and we, his three ladies, missing him greatly, looked forward to his returns, so that over the following days we could hear his sea stories. The first friction that I felt with my sister was at the time when she started school. Our parents arranged for us to be excluded from the religion classes, explaining that they didn’t believe in God. Most of the children went to the religion classes in preparation for their First Communion, and we were jealous of their white gowns, their hair garlands, and all the trappings that went along with this beautiful Catholic celebration. We were exposed to some alternative world unknown to us. We felt like outsiders and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. But the love of our parents and the belief that it was these others who were mistaken, not them, compensated us for all the negative feelings and unpleasantries that we experienced from our peers. Over the course of time we found out that our parents had come from Catholic families. Dad had been an altar server in his youth, and Mom was an altar girl, but they rejected a “superstitious faith” in favor of “science and reason”. Dad was born and spent his childhood in the Kielce area. The lullaby of the Holy Cross region’s pines, larches, and oaks lulled him to sleep, and the air smelled of tree sap. But he felt constricted there, and the wide world called out to him. When he was still a child, every puddle was for him an ocean in which he could sail his little ships made of paper or carved out of tree bark. Once he had finished primary school, he was off to Gdynia. He was accepted to the Non-Commissioned Officers’ Marine School where his dream could be realized. From that time on it was the waves that lulled him, and the air held the scent of the salty sea breeze.
Mom was from Wejherowo; she studied in Gdynia and started work there. This is where fate stepped in and brought the two of them together. Dad already had an embedded atheistic worldview, and showed himself more forceful than Mom. Crazy in love, she accepted him, lock, stock, and barrel, including his lack of faith. They decided to marry. The firm announcement that there would be no church wedding was a great dilemma for parents on both sides (our grandparents). No discussions, persuasion, or convincing would help. They were both adamant in their determination. Several years passed, and in our home we cultivated all the various traditions that our parents had brought from their own homes. For the “winter holidays” there was the aroma of a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, for Christmas Eve we ate foods customary to the vigil, we shared holiday wishes with each other, and presents were spread under the tree. These presents were brought by Grandpa Frost, because Saint Nicolas didn’t exist. For the “spring holidays” my sister and I painted beautiful eggs, a lamb was placed on the buffet among fluffy golden chicks and little rabbits, and in the vase were pussy willows. Everything was like in other families, things were almost the same, but not quite. I always felt like there was something missing in all this. Since we loved our parents so much, and they were unquestioned authorities for us, we accepted their worldview without opposition. There were times when I felt a certain unease, but I dismissed it as soon as it arose. We grew up, we were already young women. The time arrived for us to make decisions about our futures, our fields of studies, our future work… After graduation from high school my sister went to Wroclaw and became a student in the zoology department. She met her future husband, Roman, there and she turned out to be stronger influence. Even though Roman came from a Catholic family, he renounced his faith for her. The wedding was held at the civil registry office; the children that they had were not baptized, and were raised in an atmosphere of atheism. Our parents liked their son-in-law very much, and my sister thrived all the more in their eyes. Two years later I left Gdynia, too, and, like my sister, began studies in Wroclaw in the same department. There I met Alicja. She was a very nice person and a great friend; wise, selfless, and always available with advice and help. We became like sisters, and this friendship played a great role in my life. Alicja came from a Catholic family and was a truly and deeply believing person. She took her faith seriously; for her, it wasn’t just some „habits and traditions”. She went to church on Sunday and received Holy Communion. For her, participating in the mass was an absolute obligation, because God simply existed in her life. If something worried her, if something hurt, physically or spiritually, if a big exam were coming, she turned to God and the Blessed Virgin in prayer, offering her problems up to Them and asking for Their help. If something good and happy happened, in her usual, natural manner she presented her prayerful thanks before God’s throne. She knew that I was an atheist, but she didn’t try to convert me or coerce me. Her life was her witness. And, without recognizing it, I absorbed the faith that she radiated.
At times she wanted to go to an evening mass, but she was afraid to return home alone. So she asked: “Come with me. You’ll sit there for an hour, you won’t even notice the way time will fly by, and it will be more pleasant for me to have you along, and a safer walk home”. How could I refuse? The evening mass on weekdays had a particular atmosphere. Things were quiet and peaceful and the dark inside was brightened by the light emanating from the altar; the few attendees who came after their day’s work to seek respite, comfort, and regeneration whispered their prayers. I felt the effect of some inexplicable, mysterious appeal… More and more often, especially if I were distressed, I’d think: “God, if You are there, if You really exist, help me, please. Relieve my doubts”. I had a look at Alicja’s prayer book and “out of curiosity” started to read and to recognize beautiful prayers and psalms. I was growing comfortable with faith and God. Our Father, Hail Mary – the words of these prayers more and more often came to my lips. God was imperceptibly introducing Himself into my life. He spoke quietly and took up residence in my heart, even though I still didn’t know it. Like my sister, I found the love of my life in Wroclaw. Grzegorz was from Sosnowiec, from an Upper Silesian family, where God occupied the first place, before honor and fatherland. He couldn’t imagine marital vows at the civil registry office. For him it was obvious that either God would bless our union with our sacramental “I do” spoken before Him, or we would have to split up. My parents couldn’t accept the news that I intended to marry a Catholic in a church wedding. They resisted so tenaciously and I loved them so much that I gave up, and broke off from my beloved Grzegorz. It was horrible for both of us. Especially since we still studied together; when we saw each other at school our hearts would pound for the other; the feelings were still strong. I couldn’t tear my heart away from him, smother the love, and forget about him. After a few weeks of torment, we fell again into each other’s arms and made the decision: we would be together, and my parents would have to deal with it. Even today, years later, it’s hard for me to write about this, because my heart remembers the raw wound. And then? On the one hand I had to consider my beloved parents and my 20-year relation to them, and on the other, this beloved man with whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life, have children, and be with for better or for worse until death did us part. During this time I was going through an expedited catechesis, and was preparing myself for the sacrament of baptism. But without Alicja none of it would have been possible. Thanks to her and our endless conversations, I began little by little to get to know God and His commandments. I began to understand the teachings of Jesus and developed an awareness for the magnitude of His sacrifice for the salvation of mankind. Alicja was my first catechist, so it was obvious that she would be my godmother. I’ll never forget the day of my baptism. The knowledge that I had become a child of God, that my soul became as pure as the whitest snow… My heart was pounding like a hammer, I was all choked up, tears were flowing down my face. I don’t know how to describe what I felt. Is it possible to come up with adequate words? Next, we had the legally obligatory civil wedding at the civil registry office, followed immediately by a solemn mass and exchange of vows in the parish church. God, the priest, and us! The rest of the world, the family, friends, and guests, all ceased to exist. We could see only the altar, and the priest who was no less moved by the occasion than we were. Then beautiful music filled the church as the sound of Ave Maria rose to the heavens. My mother’s sister, who was a singer at the Warsaw Opera fought back the emotion and tears to sing for us. My beloved father paced in front of the church the whole time, back and forth like a lion in a cage. Only towards the end of the mass did he break down and come in. My parents never accepted Grzegorz, or come to terms with the thought that I had broken away and “trampled all over their ideals”. While I was still living with them, we had been to the weddings, First Communions, and baptisms of distant family or friends. On those occasions they were full of understanding and took pride in their own tolerance, since it didn’t have a direct effect on them. But this, this afflicted their ambitions and their egos. My parents had broken the hearts of my grandparents, and now we, Grzegorz and I, had broken theirs. My grandparents suffered because their children had turned away from God, permitted themselves to be seduced by the prince of this world, lived in sin, and drove their souls to perdition. My parents, on the other hand, suffered from a completely different cause. Their pride had been wounded. And this they could never forgive us. They have both passed on now, and a day doesn’t go by when I don’t think of them and pray for them. Lord, forgive my parents, show them Your mercy, help us to abide in faith, give us hope, and increase our love. Iwona Source: https://loamagazine.org/archive/2017/2017-39/my-path-to-god The above article was published with permission from Miłujcie się! in April 2021. Read more Christian articles (English)
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