Seventeen years ago smack in the middle of June I got on a plane to fly to Rome (to gain grace) and then onto Eastern Siberia to start a mission among people who I grew to love as my family. Many of those I served in Eastern Siberia were themselves victims of concentration camps or the descendants of those who suffered under the Communist regime. Being 100% Polish myself I was struck by the incredible fact that these people who suffered in the camps were my distant family. Why did God take them from their homes in Poland and allow for them to be sent off to Russian camps and take my relatives and allow for them to be sent into the 'New World' of America? I wonder sometimes if Great-Grandpa Pasakowski had any idea at age 13 traveling alone to find work as a furniture maker in Grand Rapid's, Michigan that young men just like him would be captured and sent East. I do know that a sister of his was killed in Auswitz.
These ideas made for interesting conversation when the Russians would ask me, 'Mery, why in the world did you leave everything in AMERICA so that you could come to us with nothing here?' To me, it wasn't virtuous, it was sort of an act of justice or obligation of something I owed to God. Part of my family (distant, but nonetheless my family) was sent far away to a painful life and I owed it to God and to these people to bring the blessings of an American upbringing full of joy and hope to them.
It was in 1994 that I first found my spiritual motherhood of Russian souls (both in the orphans I cared for in Moscow as well as in the recovering drug addicts and 'hospital people' hidden away in Gagarinka). But this spiritual motherhood of Russian souls exploded that summer of 2002 when I found myself at the breakfast table of Bishop Mazur (I accidentally sat in his seat and no one had the guts to tell me -oops) in Irkutsk. Two years later (after many souls were tucked forever into my heart) Jesus would call me forth from Russia telling me that I would still help them, but that I could not love a mission and a people more than His Heart and will which also had Africans, Filipinos, Poles, even new Americans to tuck under my spiritual maternity. Every people and place has a gift and a cross -blessings and struggles -but my heart will always remain half Russian... these are deep people and God works profoundly in that land.
So I will share some of my Russian spiritual children with you. These are fun pictures... the boys from my first years there... especially Sashka (who asked me to be his Mom in 2001 because his Mom had died... little did he know I took that to heart, prayed for him and was super happy to meet him again years later)... parishioners... street people... a former KGB worker religious sister... each story is incredible -their suffering was intense at times and so God in His wisdom had to take me to light-hearted Africa to give me a mental break. Anyways, welcome to the Russian part of my spiritual family:
(In 2002, Tanya was hugging me (above) -in 2007 (below) I was hugging her.)
Sashka wanted me to be his mom... spiritually I promised I would always pray for him...
1994:
The Babuska who had incredible stories about being shipped out to Siberia:
A poor village family:
A child who was literally thrown out a window by her parents and rescued by her grandparents:
Girls who wandered in from the street (to Church) saying they decided to believe in God and were looking for the best Church:
Our retreat on the Vocation of Woman:
And then there were the missionaries -Sr. Tatiana next to me below called me her 'mother-in-law' to make fun of my spiritual motherhood of them:
Let's all pray together that soon Our Lady's Immaculate Heart will triumph in the lives of each of these people and in the entire world.
Please keep praying for Russia.
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