In the footsteps
of St. Francis
of Assisi.

Saint Francis… a man like any of us… He knew what a sin meant… He knew what a desire of this world meant… and in spite of that, he changed himself, the world around him and so many people… He did not search for them to convert them…, he even left his own relatives… he searched for God, whom he decided to follow leaving everything he had had…, and people decided to follow Francis. They still look for his footsteps… to marvel at God and change their lives…

That was the aim of my 10 days pilgrimage to Franciscan European Meeting. We left Gora Swietej Anny the 6 of August. We traveled by three microbuses, the drivers of which were Father Adam, Father Alan and Father Zacheusz. That was a real challenge for me – the perspective of the whole night in travel… I was afraid I would not be able to sit in the bus, without the possibility of lowering my backrest. Fortunately, I had my good friends there with me: Dobrawa, Marta and Asia, who sacrificed their own comfort to make it possible for me to lie down sometimes and survive the journey.

After nearly 20 hours spent in the car, it was a great relief to get outside when we arrived in Florence. The amazing history of this city is burned into its sculptures, buildings, facades and streets… What seems really impressive is a huge cathedral which is difficult to take in entirely with one glance. Its architectural richness may put to shame many contemporary architects… Nowadays we have greater potential but what lacks is some finesse… Unfortunately, the contemporary world chooses to take the easier ways. What counts is quantity and profit… The meaningful, and at the same time sad example of that are the tickets which you need to buy to enter the cathedral…

In that town, I could understand that part of Saint Francesco’s life story when he lived in splendour, mainly for richness and amusement…, but not for spirit…

In the evening we finally got to Portiuncula, which lies at the peripheries of Assisi and where the European Franciscan Meeting was taking place. There is a huge basilica there, in the middle of which stands a chapel of Santa Maria degli Angeli (Holy Mary of the Angels), which was built by St Francis, and a chapel where he died.
I was a bit anxious at the beginning. The night was coming soon and we were sitting there, waiting for somebody to accommodate us and wondering what was going to happen. I was worried by the rumours saying that everyone was going to be accommodated in some huge hall a few kilometers away… Certainly, I would have had problems with toilet there…

The only thing that I could do was praying for some miracle to happen… We were waiting there for ages. Everybody was loosing hope and we were prepared to find out that we were sleeping under the stars… Then Father Alan appeared, quite out of breath, with the information that he managed to get us a room in the pilgrim’s house, just next to the basilica ;) Thanks to that, finally my friends and I were accommodated in great conditions and what’s more – so close to Portiuncula;)

We could go to the Chapel even in the middle of the night, to pray together with Francis and meditate on his and our lives… We could ask again, from deep down inside: ‘Lord, what do you want me to do?’… ‘What do you want me to do so that I may not waist my life?...How can I be a saint?’… I was thinking about Francis who really had to work hard to change from the healthy young man into the ailing invalid – blind, with wounds and exhausted flesh… and he renounced everything for the love of God… Looking at that fact from this perspective, God gave me a real advantage… but in return I should contribute with humility, gentleness, understanding, patience… and above all Faith, Hope and Love..

I could see with my own eyes the walls built with St Francis’s hands eight hundred years ago and I was pondering over the depth of word through which God spoke to Him: ‘Rebuild my Church…’ It would seem a misunderstanding in the light of the fact that St Francis rebuilt the Church in the broader sense – as a Catholic Community. But this little church in the basilica is a symbol of how mysterious God’s Paths can be… Sometimes it seems to us that something is pointless, meaningless, aimless…, but if only we surrender to God’s Will and His Plans, that may result in the change of the world and last through the centuries…
Apparently being only a small and very poor chapel, this place is more precious to my heart than many big and beautiful basilicas…

However, there is a desire rooted in our human nature to be able to express one’s love and gratitude towards somebody. So we build the huge basilicas in honour of the saints – one of them being St. Francis. Basilica of San Francesco d’Assisi is amazing, also because of the place where it was raised. St. Francis wanted to be buried outside of the town, where all the worst society outcasts were buried… What you can see there now, is a huge two-level basilica, with the sarcophagus of the poor wretch in the basement. When I was there, everybody was going to see it, and it seemed to me that it was impossible for me to get there, through such steep steps, with my wheelchair… so I stayed where the main altar was, the level above the sarcophagus, wandering how easy it is for us to condemn somebody, reject, shunt somebody on to the sidelines… but in fact these rejected people were chosen to lay the foundation of the place that reminds us of Sancity…

I was so close to St Francis’s grave, but I could not make these few meters down to be right in front of it… Although I consider it to be a great gift to have been able to climb to the heights of my dreams, I know one has to climb to the top to enjoy the smell of success;)
I even don’t remember who was the person that offered to carry me down to the basement… I had a look around and I noticed a few more men with strong hands, who carried me together down the stairs to the very basement, which for me was the peak;)
Although I was in the basement, I could feel the Heaven really close… and also God, who is not a God of the dead, but the God of the living ones… If nowadays God would stand on the Tabour Mountain, certainly there would be St Francesco standing together with Abraham, Moses, and Elijah ;) …It felt so good to remain there…in silence, reflection and prayer…
For such moments are worth living and bearing all the burdens, or even taking up the risk of going down the steep stairs  It only felt sad when I had to leave this wonderful place, but for sure this place will remain in my heart forever…

What also inspired a reflection in me was the basilica of St. Clare. Being a woman who loved St. Francis, and above all a woman who loved God, she expressed her deep love by serving the leprous. She sacrificed her life to God, who is present in the other human being. This sacrifice bore a great fruit which is difficult to measure and lasts forever… And it would seem that it was the past… but when I saw a group of Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity, I thought that Santa Clare lives inside each of them… Apparently ordinary girls, and in fact they were able to sacrifice their lives for this great Love… Love that is not loved so often….

For sure that love is present in the hearts of the people, whose kindness, friendship and help I can constantly experience in my life… Even during this pilgrimage I could experience it from Pawel or Fathers, who carried me… and especially, from Dobrawa, Marta and Asia, each of whom gave me their precious time during this pilgrimage…and a unique and beautiful part of their life, life that is “crazy” but at the same time engrossed in prayer ;)…

What was really extraordinary was our night trip to the heart of Assisi… It was not some usual walk through the city. It was raining and some of the street slopes were extremely steep… which did not stop the girls, who were full of energy, to run along them together with me ;) At one moment, we saw a group of Spanish youth, happy and singing approaching from the opposite direction, but the Polish are capable of many things too…;) The girls took off with me and my wheelchair, like in Formula 1, and started singing “Polska – Bialo-Czerwoni”;) - - ‘Poland – White and Red’. Spanish seemed a bit surprised that somebody could behave in a more crazy way than they did;)

St. Francis could do both sing and remain in silence… We could experience the time of silence in the Eremo delle Carceri – a hermitage of St. Francis, where he was known to retreat to occasionally. Situated on the hill, it was a beautiful place, with the impressive view of the surroundings, where St. Francis used to wander around.

When everybody went to do a sightseeing, I stayed there and became engrossed in that amazing silence… Only in silence we can really hear ourselves and the voice of God whispering inside of our heart… his words full of Love… how beautiful was the Mass in which we could participate there, when God manifested himself in that silence, among the trees… Silence is an essential space, which God needs to speak to us, to change us and make us stronger and holy…

It was worth observing for a while all the monks engrossed in silence, to understand how much a truth communion with other people, and even more, the communion with God, is missing in a contemporary world. There is only a transfer of information, but there is no time for reflection nor for interest in what others have to say… Little wonder that people move away from God, if a man can only talk, talk and talk…, so that God, not having any chance to speak, can only stay silent…

The complement to everything that we had seen that day, was San Damiano, which was the next point we went to. In this place Jesus spoke to St Francis : ‘Francis, go and rebuild my church, which as you can see is falling into ruins’.

These words had changed the course of history forever… and became the beginning of Franciscan congregation… I guess any of us wishes to bear a good fruit, create something good, leave something behind…, but many people choose the bad ways because they can not see the right aim in their lives… St Francis was one of those through which God has shown to people a true aim of life, that is why so many followed him… In spite of the ascetic style of life they had to choose to follow their Master…

We could see these poor conditions, in which the first Franciscans lived, in Rivotorto. There is a church in this small town, with a rebuilt cabin standing in its centre, where a first Franciscan congregation used to gather. It’s difficult to imagine how they could live in such a cramped place, but I think the words that appear true in this case are: ‘What does not break you, makes you stronger

We also had some difficult moments during our time in Assisi, but after all it was a pilgrimage following the footsteps of St. Francis, and his life was not all roses as well. In the remains of his house, we can come across a small alcove, covered with bars. That was where Francis was held closed by his father, who claimed that his son went out of his mind… A father, who could not understand and only caused pain and distress… I started reflecting on how I react to any injustice, vile or unkind behaviour… There is so much that I can still learn from St. Francis…

Lots of the “tracks” that he left behind can be seen in the museum situated in Portiuncula. There are two amazing turtle doves sitting close to the statue of St Francesco, just next to the entrance. We could wonder, why the next generation of these birds chose that very place to sit?... Would it be possible if it was not for St Francesco?...

The shrubs in the Rose Garden are even more amazing, as they have changed into the roses without thorns, when Francis threw himself straight on them at the moment of temptation… By experiencing pain, he wanted to overcome his desire for pleasure… And God spoke through roses: “ More than you, Francis, thorny shrubs, which symbolize this world, must change…”

Each person should get rid of thorns, tidy their inner life and change the world around which they were given to live in… we should do it through the prayer… the meaningful sign of that for me personally was the rosary that a stranger gave me in the basilica…

The Mass celebrated at the end of the European Franciscan Meeting also had a symbolic meaning. At the end everybody received a Tau Cross (an ancient Christian symbol worn by Franciscans) at the same moment hearing the beautiful words: ‘Go and rebuild my church’.

Finally, the time came to pack our things and set off for Rome… again following the footsteps of St Francis, who went there as well some centuries ago… We did not know exactly where we were going to sleep – presumably, it was supposed to be a campsite, on the suburbs of Rome. Although I was thinking about whether it would be possible to stay the night at the Franciscan Curia General in Rome... I knew that the General was there, so I felt it would be just enough to ask… just to stay a couple of nights at fellow people’s place… But there were more ‘sensible’ ones than me, who made me stop dreaming and got me back down to the earth, saying it would not be a proper thing to ask for it…

Upon the arrival at the campsite, Father Alan must have used all his charm and grace to get me and Dominika (who was another girl on the wheelchair) two rooms in the cabins ;) I had been afraid that I would have to sleep in the tent and I arrived to find out that I would be accommodated in comfortable conditions with my friends, again;)
In the evening we could enjoy some time on the dance floor in the club situated on the campsite, and the following day we set out on the trip to Rome… We decided to use the public transport instead of the cars this time. It turned out that for the person on the wheelchair, the public transport in Rome is, to put it mildly, tragically unadjusted! It was completely impossible to enter the train… I would have to take my wheelchair to pieces to get into the bus…and only some of the underground stations have the facilities for the disabled… When we finally managed to get through one of the stations and take a train, it was only with the great effort of many people that I could somehow get outside at the destination place…

Nobody is going to tell me that there are no architectural barriers on the west… At this point it is worth appreciating what we have done in Poland as regards that matter…

The most important point at this day was Vatican, and above all visiting the grave of John Paul II. Firstly, we visited the St. Peter’s basilica. Frankly speaking we would need at least the whole one day to be able to examine at least part of the marvelous architecture and all the historical legacy of that place…

Let’s take the Pieta sculpture – it would not be enough just to have a quick look at that, take a photo and walk away… This sculpture provokes to contemplate, to give it a deeper thought, to slip into reverie, to start praying…
I wish I could come back there one day, especially that according to a legend, anybody who touches the foot of the statue of St. Peter, will come to Rome again, and I did touch it;)

But honestly, personally I believe more in Touching a Heart… And an unequalled, when we are speaking about that matter, was John Paul II… He left a warm mark in my heart and I am always willing to come back anew to what he left… because ‘after all not every part of me is dying, what is imperishable in me will last!’ Before I – let’s hope so – will be born to live in heaven, my physical flesh is looking for some material signs… in the presence of which it is worth stopping for a while, so that the most precious things are not lost in the chase of this life… so that we do not miss the aim, and so that we do not loose the chance, therefore becoming unable to get back…

The monuments we saw later in Rome were only the background to the moments in the holy place in Vatican, where I could really feel His presence… and be closer to heaven, thanks to Him…

Few moments more in front of the sarcophagus of St. Peter and we left for the Plaza next to the basilica. I have seen this place in TV so many times, and it seemed so distant, extraordinary, and inaccessible… And at this very moment I could be right there…;) I could look at obelisk, arcades and the window from which the Pope used to speak… I could hardly believe I really was There… and later on I could see Lateran (the first residence of the popes), the stairs of the Pontius Pilate’s Palace, Coliseum, …and even visit the Italian pizzeria:)

I was supposed to go back to the campsite by one of our microbuses. It turned out that there were some mechanical problems with it and we were forced to look for a car mechanic in Rome… Strangely enough, nobody could fix it, so Father Zacheusz and my friend Marta decided to ask for help at Franciscan Curia General, while Dobrawa, Pawel and I stayed waiting for them next to the car. I could see a star-filled sky above me and the Vatican with basilica lightened up beautifully in the distance straight ahead. I felt a bit sorry somewhere inside that I could not have made it with them to the Franciscan Curia General, as it was my dream to stay the night there, in the Franciscan “headquarters”…

It took long before they came back and told us that we would have to wait for the car to be fixed till the next day, so we were going to sleep in Curia It is difficult to describe how welcomed Father Ernest Siekierka made us feel there. His kindness and concern for us made us believe that he was really following St. Francis’s best guiding light Being in that beautiful monastery – also at the morning Mass – I thanked God for showing me that it is worthwhile having dreams

On our way back to Poland, we traveled along the Adriatic’s shore. We had one stop at the beach, where we could catch some sunshine The following night we stayed in the Polish Franciscan enclave in Osimo. Again we could experience a great kindness, this time from Father Marcin, who gave me a room for the night in the enclosed part of the church.

A day of the 15 of August, which is day of celebrating the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, was an unusual gift of Divine Providence. This day we visited the sanctuary in Loreto. In the heart of the town, and inside of a huge basilica, there is a very small House, in which the Angel announced to Virgin Mary…
The legend says that the angels moved that house from Nazareth to Loreto, which is a small town situated on the hill near Adriatic. But it were the members of the Italian family, whose surname was Di Angelo;) that actually moved the house there. Every time I was praying the rosary and meditating on the First Joyful Mystery (The Annunciation) I was trying to imagine what this place was like…Now I was right there… And I could see with my own eyes the old, dark walls that witnessed that unusual event two thousand years ago, when ‘the Word became Flesh’ .
I really value the fact that I had the honour to be there in the House of the Mother of God, where Archangel Gabriel appeared thousands years ago.

The other experience of God’s presence was the trip to Orvieto, where the beautiful Cathedral is situated. Inside of that Cathedral there is a memento of the Eucharistic Miracle, which occurred in the nearby a town Bolsena during a Holy Mass celebrated by the priest, who was described as being a pious priest, but found it hard to believe that Christ was actually present in the consecrated Host. ‘He had barely spoken the words of consecration, when blood started to seep from the Consecrated Host and trickle over his hands onto the altar and the corporal’. The Pope Urban IV, who was residing at Orvieto then, ordered that the linen cloth bearing the stains of blood was carried in procession to the Cathedral of Orvieto. The next year the same pope instituted the feast of Corpus Christi. I think that we also need more Faith in the Holy presence of Jesus, so that miracles can happen, like at the time when He was stepping on this earth…

Our trip in the spirit of St Francis was crowned with visiting the St. Anthony basilica in Padua. St. Anthony, an outstanding preacher, was one of the first followers of St Francis. Nowadays we know St. Anthony as a patron of the lost people and things.
I think that if we did not loose the gifts that we are constantly receiving from God, then each of us would keep a boundless treasure, which does not pass away…
Touching the sarcophagus of this humble Saint, I was praying… for health… but also for God’s help in the face of adversities… and I prayed that I could live in harmony with the Gospel of God… like he did…

Lost in thought and silence, we had some time to take a walk along the streets in Padua. St. Anthony teaches us that the speech of our mouth is effective only if we speak with our deeds first. Truly, actions speak louder than words…

The last night in travel came. We had an hour and a half stop in Wien at about 5 o’clock in the morning. We decided to stretch our bones and take a stroll. There were only few people on the street, everywhere being silent and calm, almost like my small village in Poland The only difference being that there were more streets that crossed together, as we had some problems to make our way to the Market Square… We reached some great Cathedral and that was actually all I managed to see in Wien… which may have a positive side… as now I have another dream – to come there again, for a longer time...:)

St Francis taught me that even when there is just a little spark of hope flickering in my heart, it is worth trying to flame it up, and it may become the source of light and warmth… for me… for the others… for the world…