My Most Cherished Memory

                                                                     Everyday is a brand new day,
                                                                     everyday is a journey.






O Lord, how happy should we be  
If we could cast our care on Thee,  
If we from self could rest;  
And feel at heart that One above,  
In perfect wisdom, perfect love,  
Is working for the best.
J. ANSTICE.

I tell people all the time that I am an immigrant. You see, I wasn't born in this Country. I was born in Poland and came here as a small child of seven over 47 years ago. Of all the memories I have made on this Earth, there is one that I hold dear to my heart. I believe this memory has shaped who I am today and wish to become in the future.

When I was about 14, my parents decided to send me back to my grandparents in Poland for the Summer. When I say Summer, I think it was a little over a month, maybe six weeks. I had the best time ever that Summer, living on the farm with grandma and grandpa.

Not many people nowadays even know what a communist country looks like, but back in the late 70's it was still a common thing. Many of our European countries were still not free. Even though it was the 70's the state of Poland was pretty much behind several decades just like any other Communist country. Very few people had cars, most of them rode their bicycles. On farms, it was still horse and buggy days. When I think of that Summer, my first memory is hearing the horses hooves on the cobbled stone street outside my bedroom window.

Since it was Communist, whenever I went into town with either one of my grandparents, I saw the Military stationed there. I looked totally out of place with my dress so they regularly would approach me to check my passport. I had to carry it around with me everywhere, especially in the towns and cities. To this day, I never want to go to any country that has issues with terrorism or wars or military of any kind. In fact, I prefer to stay in the United States.

My grandparents took me to town quite often, but honestly, I was perfectly happy staying on the farm. They thought that I might be bored so they kept me pretty busy sightseeing every Saturday.  It was grandpa's job to take me on these tours of Poland. We would hop onto a tour bus and traipse all over the country visiting museums, castles, salt mines and even the zoo.

Once every so often, grandma would go into town to the marketplace. The marketplace was nothing grand just fellow farmers that would bring their harvests to sell and make some money. I remember remarking on how small all the vegetables and fruits were compared to American stores. Well, I didn't understand how communism worked. The government took all the good harvests for themselves and the people had the leftovers.

To be continued tomorrow!

Have a blessed day everyone.