1850 Grabowo - 1907 Wells
I should have known, as a mature man in my forties,
The situation would end badly.
Saint Stanislaus in Winona had run out another pastor.
The second in not quite two years, and the Bishop
Was running out of Polish pastors,
I was happy in Wells, and my congregation was happy with me,
But I stepped up to serve my people.
See, I had reached Winona at thirty and I went to the Normal School
On savings from winters I spent logging in Wisconsin.
It was rough company. Laugh too hard at my piety
And be rewarded with something less than Christ's perfect love:
Sometimes a punch right in the snout.
From Winona Normal to the Seminary, and after that,
The priesthood... at age forty-one. Mature as a man.
But I was such a young priest. Saint Stanislaus rebelled.
They wanted Father Misicki back. Or Father Klawiter.
Or even Father Domagalski, or even the Savior Himself,
Though He would know better than to pastor Saint Stanislaus.
They refused me control of the parish's finances.
They called me unable to speak proper Polish,
When we all knew all of Winona's Poles
Spoke Polish precisely the way I did, Kashubians all,
Just like me. They wanted me to go away,
I wanted them to obey the pastor God sent them.
That was me. I made the recalcitrants pay the price.
On innocent sons I visited the sins of their fathers.
Frank Masyga led faction which drove me out,
So baby Ludwik was denied a funeral and Christian burial.
I shook the dirt of Saint Stanislaus from my sandals.
My parish at Wells graciously took me back.
I tended to them joyously all the days of my life.
Posturing as the loving and beloved pastor, who secretly
Refused baby Ludwik a Christian burial.
I wept and prayed daily for forgiveness
All the days of my life. And I was granted forgiveness
Byy a much greater soul than mine,Even though granted less than a week's time on earth.
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