​In this particular memory, I think I had just graduated from 8th grade. I was old enough to have “working papers” that allowed me to be part of farm labor with written parental consent. My mother was happy to sign the papers.

     Children picking berries to earn money was a common, even necessary occupation for children in Poland. She often told the story of how she and her siblings picked blueberries growing wild in the forests and sold enough baskets in order to be able to buy shoes for school in the fall.
      I’m not sure why my brothers didn’t join me this particular day as we usually picked together but I got up early, made a jelly and butter sandwich and walked the 3 miles to the Employment Office. There were other people already there not unlike myself – other immigrant kids, just kids wanting to earn some money and adults of Italian and Hispanic heritage.
     At 8 am the pick-up trucks start to pull up in front of the Employment Office. Everybody piles into the back of the nearest truck. Most have been fitted with planks of wood along the long sides to make a bench. The unspoken rule was that this was for the adults. Kids just sat down on the bed of the truck, squeezed in together like so many sardines.  Nobody checks our “papers.” Did we even know the name of our farmer?  Or where we were going? No. This is the early 60’s. A different world from today.
     We ride like this all the way across the county line into open farmlands with acres and acres of strawberry fields. We pile out of the trucks, walk towards a wooden table already set up with a tablet and money box.  There are mountains of square, wooden, one-quart baskets nearby and “flats,” - flat, rectangular boxes that would hold eight one-quart baskets at a time.  Already picking in the fields are migrant workers.  I don’t know what country they were from but they converse to one another in Spanish. The field boss (maybe the owner? who knew? I didn’t) assigns everyone a row. The women, dressed in old house dresses covered with even older aprons, chat together in Italian and choose rows close to one another. I’m assigned my own row.  I’m instructed to pick clean, not to leave ripe berries behind, but to look carefully under all the leaves.  I start filling up a one-quart basket.  The pay is 5 cents for every quart basket picked.  
      Some squat while picking, some bend over the rows. Eventually, you have to change it up because both positions are hard to maintain during the long, hot summer day. Sometimes you kneel alongside, sometimes you sit just in the narrow space between the rows but it’s awkward and hard to move along the row. 
     The strawberries are large. Much better than some farms where it’s second pickings and the strawberries are smaller, and it’s harder to fill a basket quickly. Another perk: we can eat as many strawberries as we want.   I take up flats of eight quarts to the table where someone logs my numbers. The sun rises higher.  Soon I wish I had a bandana across my forehead to catch the sweat like the migrant workers or a kerchief tied at the back of the neck like the Italian women. I’d forgotten my straw hat.  The sun is now beating down.  I have no one to talk to or complain to. Like immigrants have done throughout history, in factories and in farm labor, I put my head down and keep working. There is no other choice. The boss determines when the day is done and there’s no place to hide. There isn’t a tree in sight to catch some shade.
     In the meantime, my head fills with the sound of the Italian women and Spanish migrants talking. I don’t understand a word but there’s humor and laughter. There’s quiet murmuring.   I pick quart after quart and listen. Somewhere in that day I realized I was doing really well with the “pickin” and I told myself I was going to pick 100 quarts. A nice even number. A goal to reach. It motivated me when I was lagging.
     When I got home that day, I was bone tired. The teeth in my sunburnt face were whiter than white from (what I was later to learn) the malic/citric acid in all the berries I ate.  But I proudly handed my mother the five dollar bill I had earned that day. That’s how it was at our house. Rarely did we keep money earned. She took it to the bank and deposited it. She did the same when I brought money home from picking currants (paid by the pound) or grapes (paid by the crate) and later, waitressing (paid by the hour). When I was applying to nursing school, my mother pulled out our joint bank book and showed me my collective earnings which had amounted to something over the years.  There was money to pay for tuition, books and uniforms.

 Photo of me "pickin" ( but only a few quarts ) by Regina Hanchak. 

To this very day, when I hear Spanish being spoken, I’m back in the strawberry field picking 100 quarts to earn five dollars. Each time I buy strawberries at the grocery store I think of immigrant and migrant workers who have picked those berries in the hot sun, for a minimal wage.  I think of all this as I still try to pick my row clean these 60 years later at a U-Pick strawberry farm.  Our childhood experiences stay with us forever, frequently shaping our world view for the rest of our lives.

      It is often forgotten that Saturday has traditionally been dedicated to Blessed Mother since the very first days of the existence of the Catholic Church. In 417 AD Pope Innocent I proclaimed that Saturday be observed as a day of commemoration of the pain that Mary suffered on Saturday, the day after the crucifixion.

The tradition goes back to the first Holy Saturday when the apostles and followers of Christ turned to a grief stricken and discouraged Mary to give her comfort after the death of her Son and to console and sympathize in her moment of hurt, travail and anxiety. As soon as they were deprived of Christ himself, the apostles turned and clung to His mother with their entire hearts.
In the following centuries individuals who found themselves in doubtful situations, or pain, or distress took their troubles to Mary and put themselves under her protection. The prayer Under thy protection,  dating back to the 3rd century, is considered one of the earliest Christian prayers to the Blessed Virgin Mary.
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“ Under your protection we seek refuge, Holy Mother of God. Despise not our petitions In our need, But from all dangers rescue us always, Virgin most glorious and blessed…”

     It's a simple yet powerful plea for Mary's intercession and protection. The prayer, known in Polish as Pod twoją obrona  became the prayer on the lips of Polish soldiers throughout the centuries when entering into battle to keep their country safe from invaders. It was uttered in every household during the 123 years of partitions when Poland was overcome and erased from the maps of the earth.  
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The Polish song titled  "Witaj Królowo Nieba" (Hail, Queen of Heaven) calls upon Mary with the words: “Hail, Queen of Heaven and Mother of Mercy! Hail, our hope in sorrow and mourning…” It became the most popular homage to Mary on Saturday in Polish convents. The Cistercian nuns spread the custom of singing the song throughout Europe as the last prayer of the day.

​When farmers began their field work on the all-important Saturday, putting the plow to the earth for the first time in spring, or sowing seeds, or harvesting their crops, they asked for Mary’s intercession for success in their work. Passing by a roadside shrine dedicated to the Blessed Virgin, the faithful would stop to pray. It was on Saturday that the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary are said which center on Mary and the role she played when Jesus Christ took on human form and lived in the world.   Following the example of Friday dedicated to the Holy Cross and the Passion of the Lord Jesus, Saturday came to be set aside for the special honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Saturday became a weekly feast day honoring of the Mother of God.

Those devoted to the Blessed Mother eagerly accept the tradition and attempt to display their devotion every Saturday through such ways as saying the rosary, reciting a litany or lighting candles before her image.

Photos of roadside shrine in Poland by Ed Knab. 2007

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← The church today dates back to 17th century. Author photo.


In spite of fires, invasions, and wars that took its toll on the city and the church itself over the centuries, the church of St. Florian became a source of wonder, miracles and legends when a huge fire destroyed the entire northern district of Kraków  called Kleparz in 1528.

​While many churches were destroyed in the wake of the fire, the only edifice that remained standing was the church of St. Florian. From that time on St. Florian began to be worshiped in Poland as the patron saint protecting against fire and as the guardian of fire fighters and fire stations.

  

  ←St. Florian in upper facade of the church 
Author photo


The danger from fire was real both in cities and in the countryside of old Poland. Wooden houses with thatched roofs, stables full of hay, cooking over open fires both indoors and out, all contributed to frequent fires.

A statue of St. Florian was generally erected in the middle of a town or village square as a form of protection. Oftentimes a church steeple or tower of the town hall served as the lookout where firemen watched for the outbreak of fires.

 

     Images of St. Florian can be found near fire stations either as a statue or plaque on the firehouse wall.

←Figure of St. Florian in front of the voluntary fire brigade building in Chomotów, Poland. 2010

The name Florian as a boy’s name appeared in Poland very early, growing with the cult of St. Florian from the 12th century onwards. It comes from the Latin Florus, meaning “to flower.”  ​

Not far from the church, also named after him,  is Floriańska Gate, the entrance to Old Town and  Floriańska  Street, leading directly to Kraków’s magnificent  main square.
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     St. Florian was an early Roman Christian martyr from the 4th century who died protecting his faith. On banners, medals and roadside shrines he is usually depicted dressed in a soldier's uniform and helmet carrying a bucket to douse the fire. Sometimes there is a burning house at his feet.  His feast day is celebrated on May 4th. Happy name day to all named Florian!

←Roadside shrine in Krzyzanowice, Poland  2007
Edward Knab photo.

  May 4th also International Firefighters’ Day,  a day to recognize and thank firefighters for their bravery in protecting lives and property. The date, May 4th, was chosen specifically because it is the feast day of St. Florian, the patron saint of firefighters. Thank you and God Bless You!  




For more information about the celebration of  feast days, name days ​ and roadside shrines in Poland: Polish Customs, Traditions and Folklore and Spirit of Place: the Roadside Shrines of Poland both published by Hippocrene Books, Inc. Thanks for reading!

 I suspect the priest honored the owners of the manor by blessing their food first before venturing out to those that gathered in front of the steps and around the manor. The last pre-war owner of the manor was a Ludwik Bogusz but I was unable to ascertain if that is him in the photo.  I also could not establish the name of the priest or church warden but fortunately for us, an unknown photographer captured the images on that day, now preserved in the National Digital Archives in Warsaw.

Close up of the food to be blessed.

In exchange for making the trip to their community, it was customary to contribute something  for the priest to enjoy at his own Easter morning swięconka, i.e., Easter breakfast. Women offered what they could out of their baskets, i.e. a few eggs, some sausage, a bit of cheese.

​Returning home with blessed baskets.  Once arriving at home it was an old custom in the countryside was to walk around the house three times, clockwise, with the blessed food, which was supposed to drive away evil spirits from the household.

The manor house and buildings still stand today renovated into a popular hotel, restaurant and banquet hall. 

Sources: Słownik geograficzny Królestwa Polskiego i innych krajów słowiańskich, Tom XII 1880–1902 (Geographical Dictionary of the Kingdom of Poland and other Slavic countries, Volume XII 1880–1902)

Read more about Poland, its customs and traditions in: Polish Customs, Traditions and Folklore. Hippocrene Books, Inc. 2024

​   The name comes  from the word świecić - to bless. The basket is filled with the traditional  bread, sausage, eggs, butter, salt and horseradish as well as numerous other food dictated by family traditions such as a yeast baba or placek, a bottle of wine, honey, or chocolates. Tradition dictates that nestled among all the food should be the figure of a lamb.  According to the Gospels, St John directly calls Christ the Lamb of God (John 1,29-36) when He offered his life, died on the cross and rose again on Easter Sunday.

← Knab photo.

The blessing of foods on Holy Saturday has been practiced in Poland since the Middle Ages but it is known for certain that the Easter basket carried by Polish Americans (indeed, all of Polonia dispersed throughout the world) to church on this day evolved over the centuries and initially had nothing to do with baskets at all. 

      It was the custom in those earlier centuries for kings and nobles and the very privileged to invite their bishop to come to their castle or palace to bless their lavishly laid tables containing all the foods that were going to be consumed on Easter morning..  For instance, records indicate that in 1631, on King Zygmunt III Vasa’s (reigned 1587 to 1632) Easter table there were 4 beef quarters, 5 calves, 12 capons, 22 hens, 18 chickens, lambs, grouse, partridges, hazel grouses, kid, goose, pigeons, ducks, rabbit, grouse and even an exotic turkey…
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No way all that food was going to fit in any basket!

Blessing of baskets in front of manor house in village of Tomaszowice outside Krakow. 1937. Public domain.

     In the poorest of villages that had no manor house, the central meeting place to have food blessed was at a roadside cross or shrine where the priest came by horse and carriage to bless the food.
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 Illustration by Jan Felix Piwarski Public Domain →

    The shift from individual tables and homes to a central gathering place, be it the manor house or roadside shrine, brought about another change because the question arose:  How to transport the food that was once laid out on the table to be blessed over to the manor house or to the roadside shrine to be blessed? Answer: In the usual way goods were transported in those days…in baskets! 

Historians and ethnographers point out that early on, the baskets used by country people to transport the food to the manor house or roadside shrine were much larger and filled to the brim with all the food that was going to be consumed the next day including great big wheels of homemade bread.

     As towns and communities grew and churches were built in even the smallest villages throughout Poland, the clergy decreed that anyone wanting to have their food blessed could bring it to church…where the custom has remained to this day.

←Rev. Czesław Krysa, St. Casimir’s Church Buffalo, N.Y.   Knab photo.

 Today’s baskets do not contain all the food found on a traditional Polish Easter table but small portions of it are represented - bread, eggs, pork, horseradish, a butter lamb, a placek. And, after the symbolic foods are blessed in the basket, they are transported back home and placed on the table to be consumed with the other prepared dishes that make up the Easter morning breakfast table.

It began with blessing the food on a table and today, many centuries later, with a few minor revisions along the way, it still ends with blessed food on the table. How fortunate we are as Polish Americans! No matter how simple our basket or our Easter table, we are so rich in having such an ancient, beautiful tradition that remains very much alive to this day.

            Wesołego Alleluja!  Smacznego jajka!  Happy Easter! (Enjoy a)Tasty egg! 

You can find more on Polish Easter customs in : Polish Customs, Traditions and Folklore and Polish country Kitchen Cookbook both published by Hippocrene Books, Inc. 

 

   It was on his feast day of March 19th, that widows and widowers of Poland often took their marriage vows. Despite the feast day falling during Lent, the Catholic Church granted a dispensation from the rigors of Lent and marriages were permitted.


   Husband of the Blessed Virgin Mary, caretaker of the Christ Child, patron saint of fathers and married couples and someone who had special care of married couples and families, St. Joseph  was also patron saint of carpenters and those who work.   There was also a time in Poland when he was considered patron against temptations and was the saint to pray to for maintaining sobriety and restraint. He was also held to be the patron saint of a good death. 

    It was also on this day that storks, who had migrated for the winter, traditionally returned to their nests in Poland. Old stork nests were repaired on the roofs of barns or in tall trees near the farmstead. New ones were also built, for example by attaching wagon wheels to them. According to old folk beliefs, the presence of a stork on the farm was a symbol of good fortune, so every effort was made to encourage the bird to occupy the nest on the property.

Photo:  On the Sunday preceding Ash Wednesday, at the Parish of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Włoszczowa in southern Poland, last year's Easter palms are burned for use on Ash Wednesday. https://www.diecezja.kielce.pl/podpatrzone-w-parafii-spalenie-palm-na-popielec

Sprinkling hair on crown of head with ashes in today's times in Poland. https://koscian.naszemiasto.pl/dzis-sroda-popielcowa

Whether a king, a lord, peasant or beggar, all approached the altar to receive the symbolic ashes to remind them “you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  The historian added another interesting note, something that is not practiced today: “Since not everyone was able to receive this rite on the initial Wednesday, it was given a second time in village churches on the first Sunday of Lent. Such was the piety of the Poles under the rule of Augustus III in the early years that even the sick, unable to receive the ashes in church, asked for it to be brought to their bedside.”

Other historians and ethnographers noted another form of practice in old Poland that perhaps enabled the bedridden at home to receive ashes on this day: only the senior member of the family would approach the priest at the altar, only his head would be sprinkled, and then the priest would pour some ashes into his prayer book. After coming home, in a solemn and serious manner, the head of the family would sprinkle the heads of his loved ones.
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Ash Wednesday marked the first day of Lent- a time taken very seriously.  The women in the villages put away their colorful aprons and bright coral beads for more somber colors. The men often gave up drinking alcohol and even smoking tobacco. Children also experienced the rigors of Lent. Sometimes, toys were hidden from them during Lent, leaving only the most modest or the most damaged ones, and at bedtime, instead of fairy tales, children listened to the lives of the Saints.

Additional information about Ash Wednesday and Lenten period in Poland: Polish Customs, Traditions and Folklore, Hippocrene Books, Inc. 2024

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His short, 24-year life was not one that was full of extraordinary events. He was kind. He prayed unceasingly and won the hearts of the people of Lithuania and Poland.
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     On March 4th, the Catholic Church honors the memory of St. Casimir (1458-1484), patron saint of Lithuania and Poland. Casimir (in Polish, Kazimierz) was born a prince at Wawel Castle in Kraków during the time of the great Poland Lithuanian Commonwealth when Poland and Lithuanian were united as one country. He was the third child born to the Jagiellonian line of Casimir IV, King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania and Queen Elisabeth Habsburg of Austria. 

     Raised under the tutelage of Father Jan Długosz, Prince Casimir became a pious, intelligent, and prayerful child. During his short lifetime he distinguished himself by his piety, generosity towards the sick and poor, and devotion to God and Mother Mary. 

← Statue of St. Casimir located in the church of Drądżewa at the ethnographic Museum in Sierpc, Poland.

     He failed at being a warrior and military man when his father sent him out to fight but in Wilno (now Vilnius) in Lithuania, Casimir, born of kings and in line to be a king himself, was a defender of the poor, known for his kindness and almsgiving for those in need. He said about himself  "a Prince can do nothing more honorable than to serve Christ himself among the poor." He didn’t puff himself up as somebody special. The king's son, went out into the streets, talked and cared for the people of his land.  

     His piety was legendary, kneeling and praying before the closed doors of the Vilnius church, witnessed by others.  He is often painted kneeling at night in front of the cathedral doors that emphasize his ardent devotion to the Blessed Sacrament.

   Jan Długosz witness to the prayers of Casimir by Polisih painter Florian Cynk. Wikipedia.

     He had a special devotion to the Mother of God and was especially attached to the Latin hymn Omni die dic Mariae [On every day praise Mary], which he treated as a daily prayer.

 "Omni die dic Mariae Mea  laudes anima: Ejus festa, ejus gesta Cole devotissima."

“Daily, daily sing to Mary, Sing, my soul, her praises due: All her feasts, her actions honor with the heart's true devotion.”

He died young and took that devotion to the grave. Years after his death, when the prince's coffin was opened in 1604, the text of the hymn was found to be buried with him, written on parchment and located under his head. 

His tomb was the site of miracles. His canonization ceremony took place in 1604. His remains are interred in the magnificent Saint Casimir's Chapel in the  Archcathedral Basilica of St. Stanislaus and St. Ladislaus (simply called Vilnius Cathedral) built in 1636.
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   He was kind. He prayed unceasingly. And won the hearts of his people.

  Churches and chapels throughout Poland and Lithuania were built in his name. Immigrating to various parts of the world, the people of Poland brought that devotion with them. 

​←St. Casimir at St. Casimir’s Church, Buffalo, NY 

In church iconography, the princely saint is recognizable by his crown and often depicted in an ermine cloak (above photo),  holding a cross, a lily or a scroll with the words of his favorite prayer Omni die dic Mariae.

Happy name day to all named Casimir (Kazimierz) and its diminutives: Kaz,  Kazik, Kaziuk, Kaziu, Kaziuś.  You are named after a prince!









For more about feast day and name days see: Polish Customs, Traditions and Folklore, Hippocrene Books, Inc. 2024

Sources:  https://mwmskansen.pl/sw-kazimierz
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 During the occupation of Poland during World War II, the city of Kraków became the capital city of a region called the General Government(often abbreviated in the literature as GG). ​

Photo Source: United States Holocaust Memorial Museum


This German zone of occupation in Poland was inhabited by 11 million people, all of whom were to become a source of cheap labor for the German occupiers. 

To accomplish this task the entire GG region saw the establishment of an endless number of German offices and bureaus. Kraków, where governor Hans Frank took up office at Wawel Castle and hoisted the Nazi swastika, also became the seat of an ever-expanding number of administrative offices filled by thousands of German  civil servants, clerks, lawyers, officials and their families.  
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All businesses, factories and enterprises formerly owned by the Polish and Jewish population were taken over by Germans. They took control of the railway system. The Polish and Jewish press and radio were liquidated. German shops and bookstores appeared with Hitler's portrait in the leading role.  In addition, there was a large military garrison and various services such as the Gestapo, SS (Schutzstaffel, the elite guard of the Nazi regime)and SA (storm troopers).  Everything was in the hands of the Germans.

To accommodate this influx of Germans, the city was divided into zones and Germans began brutally removing Kraków residents from their homes, taking over the better homes and entire neighborhoods. Poles who were displaced were moved to the districts of Stradom and Kazimierz, home to Krakow’s Jewish population, who were simultaneously relocated to the Kraków ghetto under the slogan that "Jews are carriers of infectious diseases.”  They were locked in and those who could not work for the Reich were later deported to extermination camps.

From 1940 on, all the streets in the city were Germanized. 
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Sign reads: Only for German Passengers. NAC photo

​Often referred to in literature as "small sacred architecture," roadside crosses and shrines are an integral part of Poland’s landscape and cityscape. Anyone who has traveled to Poland has to agree that it is impossible not to notice the innumerable crosses, religious statues and little chapels that seem everywhere one looks.

Statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Bliskowice, Poland. Edward Knab photo.

     Over the centuries of Poland’s Christian heritage, they were erected by individuals as a token of gratitude for graces received, to ask forgiveness of sins or as memorials of important events in the life of the founder or founders. Polish ethnographer Tadeusz Seweryn beautifully described them as “… the prayers of the people scattered across the Polish landscape, carved in wood or carved in stone. They are the manifestation of a pious heart.’” The establishment of roadside shrines were essentially acts of faith that arose from a real need from someone’s heart and soul. Each shrine or cross was unique, each one erected for a specific reason and each erected in a special place.

    Frampol, Biłgoraj County, Lublin Voivodeship. Edward Knab photo.   

    This was especially important in the winter. When the narrow, dirt roads of those early times were often covered with a high layer of snow, the tall crosses facilitated orientation to the landscape. This was especially true in small villages that were established in the vast mountainous regions of Poland where the winters were fierce with snow and wind. 
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 Winter in the Tatra Mountains pre 1939. Narodowy Archiwum Cyfrowe. Polona.pl

   ​In summer we would see the shrines decorated with fresh flowers, as well as annuals and perennials.  In winter they are no less adorned and cared for with ribbons,  flags flying high in the wind and colorful artificial flowers.

 Frampol, Lublin Vovoidship. Edward Knab photo.

​Against the background of nature’s coat of winter white, among the filigree of tree branches,  the many shades of evergreens, and the blue of the sky, the numerous crosses, religious figures and chapels in Poland’s landscape quietly make their testaments of the faith of the people of Poland. 

For more about the roadside shrines of Poland look for the book titled Spirit of Place: The Roadside Shrines of Poland, Hippocrene Books, Inc. 2023. Available from Hippocrene Books, Polish Art Center, Polish American Journal Bookstore and Amazon.
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