Open Writing

Warsaw Airport's amenities in 1964 were very basic compared with Heathrow, but amidst the bustle they scarcely had time to take in their surroundings. In the arrivals lounge they were met by Uncle Stanislas and Aunt Marie. It was a warm, joyous welcome from close relatives, who previously had been voices on a telephone.

"My dear child, the last time I saw you, you were an infant in your mother's arms. What a beauty you are - just like your mother." Elsa wept tears of happiness enfolded in his warm embrace.

Uncle Stanislas looked like a jolly, round teddy bear with ruddy cheeks and twinkling brown eyes. He smiled and laughed a lot, talking to her as if she were a little girl. His English was surprisingly good, as was Aunt Marie's. Marie was tiny and had a lovely soft brown-and-pink face and a mass of curly white hair.

Elsa had been surprised by her relative's appearance. Her Uncle Stanislas was older than her mother, but both he and her aunt looked many years older. They also looked shabby, unlike her smart, stylish mother, and then she felt ashamed of herself.

Her mother had told her many times how in the war, Stanislas had been a member of the resistance and had aided the Jews in the Warsaw Ghetto. After the war he had helped to re-build Warsaw, which both the Germans and Russians had plundered. Stanislas wasn't a figure of fun, he'd been a hero. She realised she had become too complacent and self-satisfied, living in comfortable, middle - class Harpenden.

Jack, she saw, was happy in the company of her aunt and uncle. They were the sort of people he admired and respected - pleasant and unpretentious and easy to get along with.

The Trabant they motored in travelled slowly. It rattled, creaked and groaned, discovering every pothole in the road, which made for a long and exciting journey!

Her aunt and uncle's home was a large old house on the outer limits of the city. It had been her mother's home when she was a girl and Elsa had been born there. Now Elsa felt that she had really come home. Marie and Stanislas and their two sons and their wives and children all lived there in good-natured, rumbustious contentment.

That evening there was a feast with what seemed an endless array of appetisers, garnishes and accompaniments served with steaming platters of sauerkraut and meatless pierogies, which they found were dumplings made with a variety of delicious fillings. There were pickled beets, pickled mushrooms, pickled herrings, pickled everything served with hot oven-brown poppy seed rolls. To follow this was rich cake called Babka and piles of mouthwatering little pastries called mazurkas. All this was accompanied by plum brandy and home-brewed beer.

Neighbours came in with their accordion to wish the couple well and told marvellous tales of the miracle cures at the shrine of the Black Madonna. There was singing and dancing. Elsa and Jack played with the latest addition to the family, nine-months-old Stanislas, named after his grandfather.

In that friendly company Elsa found she was able to recall many of the Polish words and phrases she had learned as a small child. She was surprised at how many of these friendly people spoke such good English.

That night Jack and Elsa made enthusiastic love and slept in the bed in which she had been conceived and born, and as Jack said: "If that wasn't a happy omen, then I don't know a better one!"

Early the next morning they travelled again in the small car to Warsaw station and boarded the train crowded with pilgrims bound for Czestochowa. Many of the passengers were disabled and were attended by gentle, caring nuns. The carriage was hot and airless, and the train stopped at many of the wayside stations on its picturesque route.

They arrived at their destination at lunchtime. Lunch came from a well-stocked picnic basket, which Marie had made up for them, and they shared it with a young Polish couple, called Conrad and Rosanna, who they had met on the train. It was cooler here than in Warsaw.

As the four of them followed the trail of the pilgrims to the Monastery, the air felt like silk on their skin. Holding hands they breathed in the peace and beauty of the place and thought of all their blessings and the kindness and good wishes bestowed on them.

When they entered the Monastery, black-robed priests guided them to where the painting was displayed, surrounded by lighted candles. They each added a candle to the others around the picture of the melancholy Blessed Mother and Christ child known as the Black Madonna.

They could see the black, sooty residue from the candles which gave the painting it's name and noticed the two deep gashes made by thieves attempting to remove the picture, almost six hundred years ago. Now they understood why this icon was needed and revered in Poland, a country beset on all sides for centuries by marauders and enemies.

Jack and Elsa stood heads bowed, and silently prayed. They recognised that they were somewhere exceptional. Upon the walls were displayed hundreds of rosaries and religious medallions, left by the devout who had been cured in this holy place. The devotion shown to the sick and trusting people who made this pilgrimage looking for an answer to their prayers was confirmation of that. Whether or not they witnessed a miracle, Jack and Elsa knew that whatever the outcome, visiting Czestochowa had been the right and perfect thing to do.

As they made their way to the railway station Jack looked at Elsa and took her hand. "You're very quiet and pensive. What are you thinking about? The Madonna's sooty face?"

She smiled, "No I was wondering what Marie and Stanislas and the rest of them thought of the presents we brought from home."

They soon found out. The whole house reeked like a branch of Crabtree and Evelyn's. The children were quiet as mice creating a Lego village and stuffing themselves with Smarties. The men had Glen Morangie on their breath, and Elsa and Jack were greeted like harbingers of the second coming.

For the rest of the fortnight Elsa discovered the land of her ancestors. They visited Chopin's birthplace, a manor house near Warsaw called Zelazona Wola. They wandered around the ancient streets of Cracow, Poland's most beautiful city and experienced the breath-taking beauty of the Tantra Mountains.

Jack and Elsa considered the best day of their visit was spent in the woods. They took the children, or rather the children took them, hunting for mushrooms. Elsa listened as Delphine, Friedrich's eldest child instructed Jack on the best mushrooms to pick and described the delicious dishes Grandmamma would make with them. Jack's face shone with delight as the little girl told him the name of a particularly ugly but delicious species of fungi.

Was this how it would be for them and their children? Please let it be so. I don't want him to feel let down. I want all this for us. Is that too much to ask for? Oh let it be.

After the happiest and most fulfilling holiday either of them had ever spent, they sadly packed their bags.

"You know, Jack, it will still have been worth it, even if we don't have a baby."

"Yes but we will. I know, it's been wonderful and all over so quickly. Darling, we'll have to go. Stan's waiting for us with the Trabbie."

All the family was there and the neighbours stood by their gates or hung out of windows and waved. As the car moved off there was such a cacophony of shouting voices.

"Heavens! What a racket, what are they saying Stan?"

"They are telling you to come back next year and bring the baby."

And they did!