This morning I will not forget...(5)

This sunny morning, I was carrying fresh fruit and vegetables from the market. As usual on the way, I went to a tiny meat and meat store to finish my Saturday shopping. I went to the counter and I heard, "They killed our president."

- I'm sorry. I said, "I don't realize what you're saying.

And then I got the sound of any serious music coming from the back of the store.

- I'm sorry. The Russians killed our president in Katyn - the seller repeated.

I didn't ask for meat anymore. I went home. I grabbed the flag standing in the corner and hung it on the balcony. In the meantime, I woke up with this terrible message from the household.

- I'm sorry. Make me a school sign: " Katyn 2010" - the boy demanded.

I'm on it right now, though there was plenty of time till Monday. In white and red, I painted black letters, and the "T" someway grew up like a cross.

My son... In a couple of days, he'll be writing his 2010 graduation. In the evening we went to Piotrkowska.

From the side of Freedom Square, people were gathering with flags and snowballs. Dressed black. any female was handing out kires for the flags. The manifesto moved towards the cathedral. I don't know who the organizer was, possibly NZS, due to the fact that there were quite a few youth.

I've met quite a few friends, any I haven't seen in years. We didn't comment on the event, we didn't want to talk. We walked in silence.

***

April 17 was a sunny day. We took the coach of Łódź "Solidarity" to Warsaw.

From the parking lot we went rapidly to the place of celebration, passing through the squares and park. On the way we met scouts, besides this redheaded girl with braids, shown earlier on TV, as she stood on watch close the cross.

We got here and stood by the barriers that separate us from VIP. In front of us, white-black portraits of the dead were suspended on the facade of the building. On our side, the crowd grew rapidly. There were many empty chairs behind the railing. At 1 point I saw Jan Rulewski, erstwhile an oppositionist from Bydgoszcz, now a Platform policy. He sat in 1 of the last rows, next to it, put a file. He was in a brown coat, and he was looking so anxiously. After a fewer minutes, he took his briefcase and, crouched, went somewhere fast. Like he was moving away. On our side of the barrier stood and talked to the people of Władysław Serafin from PSL. I saw this immense difference in his average behaviour and Rulewski's behavior. Why did I notice...?

We were all waiting for Mass. It lasted a long time. There were so many people that it was hard to kneel.The sun was burning unmercifully. It's a good thing the Boy Scouts were throwing mineral water through the crowd.

And then we'd go back to our bus. I remember a young Georgian wearing a distinctive outfit. He held in his hands a immense flag of his country, which he raised up and turned to float in the wind. I threw myself at his neck and thanked him for being with us. It came out so unexpectedly, I can't explain it. I was so grateful to him. And then, a small tired, we left for Łódź. From the coach I got off at the office of “Solidarity”, walked a fewer meters and got on the tram to get home.

It was a full different world. Young people with cans of beer in the wagon, old people with dreary faces; sometimes I heard any profanity, primitive reactions to 1 another.

Why did I feel completely different in Warsaw a fewer hours earlier? Among his, among his friends, those who feel as I do, who are warm, helpful, just decent. There I was a associate of the community, society, nation. Here, in my town, I felt strange, out of place, I felt like I was getting bloated by any mud, that the words next to me were spoken foreign, rude, without content. Like nothing happened. And yet there was inactive a white-red ribbon with kire hanging from my coat pocket.