In Memory of
As I'm sure most people are aware, the pope passed away today. I know his health has been declining lately, but this still seems sudden to me for some reason. I just wanted to share a short story on the subject.
I spent 7th through 9th grade living in Germany (my father was in the Army at the time). The summer before my freshman year of high school I went on a missions trip to Poland with my youth group. We spent a week and a half helping out at an English camp for Polish high school students (or the equivalent of). I had a great time there, made a lot of friends with the Polish students, who I found to be very open and very down to earth. I was assigned to assist the advanced english class. I mean these kids could speak english just as well as I could, maybe even better. We spent most of the day having conversations about different topics such as Communism, school, teenage life, family, politics... really anything that happened to come up.
So for a week and a half I spent time with these Polish students. We ate all our meals together, shared bedrooms, and talked non-stop. I distinctly remember one meal. In the dining room there was a small TV, and for most of the week it was turned off. Even if it was on, no one paid attention to it. But one day I went in to have dinner and every single Polish student was in the room with their eyes glued to the TV. The pope was on. I'm not sure what he said or why he was on TV (since I dont speak any Polish... well I can count to 10, but that's it). But every single person in the room was hooked to what he was saying. After the pope was done, everyone starting talking about him. They told me (and the other Americans), about how great he was and all the wonderful things he did for their country. I saw the pope as the head of the Catholic church... a far off figure that gave orders about what the church should and should not be doing, I imagined he prayed a lot, and was definately on God's "good side." To the people in the room with me he was much more than that. He was a national hero, a figure that was respected, loved, and adored. When they spoke about him, you couldnt help but hear pride in their voice... "he comes from Poland, you know."
And now on this very sad day, I am reminded of these friends I had in Poland. I'm imaging the grief that must be widespread throughout the country. And thinking about this one man, who touched so many people's lives.
I spent 7th through 9th grade living in Germany (my father was in the Army at the time). The summer before my freshman year of high school I went on a missions trip to Poland with my youth group. We spent a week and a half helping out at an English camp for Polish high school students (or the equivalent of). I had a great time there, made a lot of friends with the Polish students, who I found to be very open and very down to earth. I was assigned to assist the advanced english class. I mean these kids could speak english just as well as I could, maybe even better. We spent most of the day having conversations about different topics such as Communism, school, teenage life, family, politics... really anything that happened to come up.
So for a week and a half I spent time with these Polish students. We ate all our meals together, shared bedrooms, and talked non-stop. I distinctly remember one meal. In the dining room there was a small TV, and for most of the week it was turned off. Even if it was on, no one paid attention to it. But one day I went in to have dinner and every single Polish student was in the room with their eyes glued to the TV. The pope was on. I'm not sure what he said or why he was on TV (since I dont speak any Polish... well I can count to 10, but that's it). But every single person in the room was hooked to what he was saying. After the pope was done, everyone starting talking about him. They told me (and the other Americans), about how great he was and all the wonderful things he did for their country. I saw the pope as the head of the Catholic church... a far off figure that gave orders about what the church should and should not be doing, I imagined he prayed a lot, and was definately on God's "good side." To the people in the room with me he was much more than that. He was a national hero, a figure that was respected, loved, and adored. When they spoke about him, you couldnt help but hear pride in their voice... "he comes from Poland, you know."
And now on this very sad day, I am reminded of these friends I had in Poland. I'm imaging the grief that must be widespread throughout the country. And thinking about this one man, who touched so many people's lives.
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