It is the year 1958. I am on a train going towards Olsztyn with a canoe group. We are starting a vacation program that has been adopted since 1953: we spent part of our vacations in the mountains, most often in the Bieszczady Mountains, and part on the Mazury lakes. The Łyna River is our destination. That is why – it was in July – we are on the train going to Olsztyn. I say to the so-called “admiral” – as far as I remember, it was Zdzisław Heydel at that time: ‘Zdzisiu, I will not be able to participate in kayaks, because I received a call from the Primate (since the death of Cardinal August Hlond in 1948 it was Cardinal Stefan Wyszyński) and I have to report to him’.
And, “Admiral” said: “It’s done.”
So, when the appointed day came, we left the group to reach the nearest railway station – Olsztynek.
Knowing about the necessity to appear at the Primate during the rafting on the Łyna, I wisely left a festive cassock in Warsaw. It wouldn’t be appropriate to go to the Primate in the one I used during canoe trips (on trips I always carried a cassock and a set of chasubles to celebrate the Holy Mass).
So, at first we set off by canoe on the waves of the river, and then by a truck that was carrying sacks of flour and this way I reached Olsztynek. The train to Warsaw departed late at night. So, I took my sleeping bag with me, thinking that while waiting for the train I would take a little nap and ask someone to wake me up. But there was no need, because I didn’t fall asleep at all.
John Paul II. “Get up, let’s go!”
St. Stanislaus BM Publishing House. Cracow 2004.
