They came in search of memories, and their destination was telegraphed in a kind of Polish code on the street: Go stand below the okno–the second-floor window of the archbishop’s residence–where as teenagers they once laughed and prayed with the most famous Pole of their lifetime.
This day, as their pope lay dying, these followers with glints of gray in their hair could not help weeping. A few prayed for a miracle. Most, gathered in a haunting open-air vigil of prayer and melody that continued past midnight, simply asked God to look kindly on their compatriot, Pope John Paul II.
Bogdan Wojtowicz wrapped his arms around his two tiny sons as he gazed at a lone crucifix set in the open window overlooking the square off Franciszkanska Street. He was 16 when the Pole known as Karol Wojtyla waved from that window during his first pilgrimage as pope.
By chance, Wojtowicz later brushed the pope’s hand during prayer. It was a wondrous night in 1979, and as Wojtowicz now knows, a time that changed history.
“He was such a symbol for us,” the 42-year-old store manager said. “For the defeat of communism. For Solidarity [the independence movement of Poland]. For Poland. But he had a spiritual dimension that transcended even that for us. And I think that’s what you’re seeing and hearing tonight–this is a demonstration of the spirit.”
All Poland was on the edge of mourning Friday, and there was a small comfort in walking the cobblestone streets of Krakow, the medieval city where a young Wojtyla studied as a priest and suffered through the trauma of war and tyranny.
From priest to bishop to cardinal, Wojtyla quietly relished the rich and often brave community of churches here. He loved Krakow as Poland’s cultural heart and he could never quite say goodbye. “I hate to leave you,” the pope said when he left in August 2002, the last time he visited Krakow.
The faithful turned out by the thousands all day to pray in those churches and some left behind tulips, daffodils or roses in homage. By Friday evening, the vestibule of St. Mary’s Basilica, the grandest and one of the oldest churches in town, was ablaze with tiny, votive candles, stubborn symbols of hope.
“I’ve been thinking about him all day,” said Jacek Dunikowski, a construction engineer. “I was thinking about him at work. And I was praying, all the time. . . . I’m praying for strength for his journey. But yes, most people here would probably prefer a miracle. They can’t imagine life without our pope.”
The early years of his papacy was a special grace for the pope’s native land, the most rebellious of communist countries. His 1979 visit challenged the communists and heightened Polish resolve. The collapse of communism, in the minds of many historians, will be part of his legacy.
But the pope’s popularity was never limited to a single generation of Poles. He returned often to Poland as he became the most traveled pope in history. He believed he had a mission to help the country of 40 million secure its place in the modern world. His message in the past decade often cautioned Poles that every day, even in a free world, dawns as a moral test.
“He reminded people of their values,” said 24-year-old Ewa Tejszerska, who traveled from a small town near the northern city of Gdansk to pray in Krakow. “He was like a father to me. He’s all I’ve known.”
“I’m not even religious but I came because he is a very important person in our lives and he spoke about issues that mattered,” said Artur Mierzwa, 21, a university student. “When he is gone, things will surely change. And not for the better.”
This past week offered another lesson from an extraordinary life. Many Poles choked up with tears as they tried to talk about Pope John Paul II’s accomplishments. For them, it was difficult to see the pontiff’s health fail during the week of Easter. It was almost unfathomable that this pope, the most powerful of Catholic voices, would lose his ability to speak and preach.
Sister Rachela, a round-faced nun from the mountain town of Nowy Sacz, said Friday that she had traveled miles to pray in the city that formed Pope John Paul II as a young man. Open-air prayer, in another time in Polish history, was a form of defiance. This night, under a cold clear sky, it would be a kind of communion and a way to honor a man of faith.
“The Holy Father did so much for the world. When he goes, I think people will miss him deeply. The whole world will feel it,” the young nun said, “but, I think, the Poles especially.”
