We didn’t have much time for sight-seeing in Poland but seeing my family was actually what I mainly wanted out of our short visit there. Everything else was an additional treat. So today I am grateful for my family in Poland and all the places of heart-warming indulgence that I like to visit there. :)
Every so often I’d like to find out what great spiritual leaders have to say about families. A while ago I came across a quote from a sermon of Pope Francis in which he urged families to cultivate a habit of dreaming together. I thought that it was a wonderful message to send to both parents and children. Dreaming together – we’ve got to find the time and the opportunity to do it.
In our house, dreaming together sometimes means planning our trips and holidays, organising our week or saving money for a house-improvement project, but other times it actually means sharing our enthusiasm or crazy needs, reaffirming who we are and what we want to do and who we want to be. How otherwise are we to learn who our family members actually are? How otherwise are they going to learn who we are?
This is to some extent how I see love.
Loving someone is to love their dreams.
My dream for this coming week is to fly safely to Poland (and back) to find out what my family over there dreams about. Although I do not have a white beard or red outfit, I might still be able to make things happen.
Now I’m off to pack and quiz my husband about his dreams. Hopefully, he’ll say that I’m still one of them. ;)
Do zobaczenia! (‘See you soon’ in Polish)
Our little toddler babbles a lot, but he doesn’t have many words yet. We are raising him with three languages: Polish, Italian and English and so his speech at the moment is a combination of a small number of words and short phrases in those languages alongside a continuous and imaginative chatter that we politely follow (frequently bewildered). I often wish I was able to understand what he says to us. To join in in his observations and appreciation of the world. To get his perspective.
The word that our son says often is ‘Grazie’ (‘Thank you’ in Italian). I hear him saying it hundreds of times every day. I take him out of his cot, he responds ‘Grazie, mama’. I dress him, he says ‘Grazie, mama’. I give him bread, tomatoes and pears and I hear ‘Grazie, mama’. I put a scarf on his neck, he says: ‘Grazie’, I open the door for him and again, he shouts: ‘Grazie, grazie, grazie, mama.’. I cover him with his duvet in his cot and he quietly whispers: ‘Grazie, grazie, grazie, mama.’
As I switch the light off and I close the door I feel overwhelmed by his appreciation of the smallest of things that I do for him. He never loses an opportunity to acknowledge my efforts, however small, they are recognized.
It’s delightful.
“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass
These photographs were taken during my stay in Poland. A day before our flight back to the UK snow began to fall. I was thrilled. I had what I waited for and I’ve captured our little walk around my dad’s orchard above. I think that it was in my childhood that I have somehow persuaded myself that the snow needs to fall for the new year to begin. It’s as if a blank sheet was put on my old scribbled paper and I am now allowed to start again…. with lungs full of refreshing air.
Just a few memories collected in one spot. The last-but-one photo was taken in Aosta, Italy. The feast of sweet dishes was made by my aunitie in Poland. The large pumpkin was given to me by my neighbour a week ago – my little boy was trying to make a soup out of it for his crocodile. :)
Postcards Without Stamps 