EMILY Eleanor Grzedowska, entered the convent in Zakliczyn in 1885, three years after its foundation by the Bernardine Sisters from Cracow. The history of the community in Cracow is a long one, for its origin dates back to the year 1457, four years after the founding of the men’s order by the same name by St. John Capistrano. Modelled after the Franciscan third Order in Italy, the rule adopted was Franciscan, but because in the early days when the Sisters did not yet have their private chapel and had to attend the church of St. Bernardine which was closest to their convent, like the Fathers, they, too, began to be called Bernardines by the townsfolk, and the name has traditionally remained with them. The church, endowed by Zbigniew Olesnicki, the Cardinal archbishop of Cracow and chancellor of the King, was named in honor of the newly-canonized Franciscan saint, Bernardine of Sienna, by John Capistrano, his contemporary, staunch friend, and loyal defender. John was in Poland at the time on the invitation of the King, Casimir IV.
The first Bernardines in Cracow engaged in social activities, nursing the sick and taking care of the poor, using for this purpose funds which they gained from the labor of their hands, like sewing, embroidery, or work in the church. Their garb was a simple, modestly designed secular dress. In 1640, the bishop of Cracow blessed their canonically erected cloister, and the Sisters donning the brown habit and the black veil ceased their social activities, leaving the care of the infirm and poor to the group of externes. The time had not yet arrived when the Church was to give its approval to the immense social activity carried out by the active religious of today.
The convent in Cracow had its great share of blessings from God. It never lacked benefactors nor vocations, very often illustrious indeed. One of these benefactors was the great bishop of Cracow, James Zadzik in 1642, who in addition to providing the means for a substantial chapel, donated to them a picture of St. Joseph, his own personal gift from Pope Urban VIII. Veneration for this image grew through the years and today it is known as the miraculous St. Joseph of Cracow.
Crosses, too, were numerous in the long course of its history. Repeated fires and floods caused the destruction of their material possessions. Wars, the greatest of which were the Swedish invasions in the seventeenth century, left their marks of disaster. The enemy ravaged and pillaged the entire city leaving of the convent of the Bernardine Sisters, bare, broken walls. For two years the Sisters, dispersed by the onslaught, lived outside the confines of their cloister, sheltered by sympathetic friends. But after each catastrophe they returned to their former home and resumed their life of solitude and prayer. The thread of life coming into existence in 1457 was never broken. Time and time again new shoots were transplanted from this sturdy tree and new Bernardine convents arose.
The Sacred Heart convent in Zakliczyn in south-central Poland, not far from the city of Tarnow, was one of the foundations made from the house in Cracow. It was made following the invitation of James Jordan Rozwadowski, a relative of Reverend Mother Hedwig Jurkiewicz, former superior of Cracow. He was manager of affairs in Zakliczyn and a man of prestige in his community. He made the proposal to the Sisters for settling in his community and granted them a slightly elevated section called Konczysko, not far from the town of Zakliczyn. The two countesses of Maluszyn, Helen and Caroline Ostrowski, also relatives of Mother Hedwig, were the first benefactors coming to their aid in establishing the new home. In 1883 permission was granted by the Provincial; of the Friars Minor of the Immaculate Conception Province in Tarnow for the erection of the convent; July 13 of the same year Rome gave its approval. The decree of the Ministers General of the Friars Minor of April 26, 1888, placed it under the jurisdiction of the Reformed Friars Minor. Two years later, November 25, 1890, their church under the patronage of the Sacred Heart was blessed by the bishop of Tarnow. This church of the Bernardine Sisters in Zakliczyn was one of the first churches in Poland dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
The first superior of the Zakliczyn foundation was Mother Hedwig Jurkiewicz who came there with her secretary Sister Elizabeth Schirmeisen August 5, 1882. It was this Mother Hedwig who received Mother Veronica into the community November 2, 1885, and provided her further with the example of penitential holocaust. She was the golden thread tying the past four centuries of Franciscan life with the new plantlet at Zakliczyn. All that makes for the true spirit of a life dedicated solely to an intense love of God was exemplified in her actions. As superior in Cracow and later in Zakliczyn her only interest was to increase the loving service of her Master in herself and in those under her charge. It was through her efforts that the Cracow convent received permission from Pope Leo XIII for daily exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. She did not remain there long enough to enjoy the consolation exposition of the Blessed Sacrament brings, for the permission was granted after she already had been transferred to the new convent in Zakliczyn.
That she was a highly privileged soul those Sisters who had known her before they had come to America readily vow. Mother Margaret related that she had often witnessed tender scenes of her pleading with her Master in the silence of the chapel for the release from the consuming fires of rapturous love. She died in the odor of sanctity in 1910.
It did not take Mother Hedwig long to recognize the worth of the new soul entrusted to her care. Although she was no longer very young and had been accustomed to many years of independent livelihood, Sister Veronica impressed her superior by her docility and her whole-hearted cooperation. Consequently, she trusted her with works that would have endangered the vocations of a less intrepid soul. The convent building was still comparatively new when she entered and therefore was lacking in much that would make it a real abode for those chosen to spend their lives in it in God’s service. Emily was commissioned to go out and seek by purchase or request whatever was needed for this purpose. Unobserved she entered the Russian zone of Poland and hunted out articles from looted convents and monastaries placed on auction, succeeding often in finding objects of great value. At one time she brought home rare paintings, stripped from convent walls and rolled to minimize the space they occupied at the auction sale. These were later given to the Friars; only two portraying scenes from the life of St. Francis were used to adorn the walls of the Sister’s convent.
She solicited funds for the new building by visiting many of the wealthy Varsoviens whom she had known at home. Since they were pious and her manner of approach completely disarming, she always met with success in procuring financial aid. She was sent to a wealthy baron in Vienna who had promised Mother Hedwig a certain sum and met with success there, also. Mother Hedwig was not mistaken in the confidence which she placed in her and the extreme poverty of the nuns was greatly alleviated. When the Dominican convent in Przyrow gave notice that it would soon be extinct by reason of The Imperial Decree forbidding new members since 1865, she was sent there in disguise and under an assumed name, and brought back ascetical books, church vestments and other valuables belonging to the convent. On one of these tours she met the esteemed Wanda Malczewska to whose prayers she attributed her success in returning unharmed.
She received the habit of the order January 18, 1887, from the hands of the Very Reverend Marcel Korzeniowski, O.F.M., delegated for the act by the Very Reverend Provincial, Luke Dankiewicz, O.F.M. The clothing ceremony according to the Franciscan ritual is beautiful; the beauty was further enhanced by her to whom the day belonged, Emily Eleanor Grzedowska. With deft fingers she had fashioned her bridal gown, the second to be worn by her; with artistic taste she designed the bouquets on the altar and arranged everything in order in the sanctuary. The vestments and altar cloths were the work of her hands.
As the ceremony proceeded, Emily knew that there was a slight difference from the one she had remembered for almost twenty-five years; but she was soon to know that in one detail reserved for her in surprise, it was exactly the same. When her new name was called it was the same that she had cherished all those years – the name of Sister Veronica. Her beloved saint had repaid her loyalty.
Two other postulants were clothed in the habit with Mother Veronica, Sister Angela Szirmeisen and Sister Stefania Grzybowska. The latter lived only ten months as a Bernardine Sister in the convent in Zakliczyn.
Sister Veronica’s novitiate began then January 18, 1887. If her first novitiate seemed like heaven on earth, this one was more appreciated. She had known exile and longing for what she had already tasted and for which she had found no substitute. She had grown in the wisdom which suffering brings and consequently, was far more appreciative of the grace granted her than when she was a young postulant and novice at Clairmont. Under the loving guidance of Mother Hedwig she entered wholeheartedly into the training of soul and mind in order to become the true religious her vocation had singled her out to be.
She knew her chief fault – an impatient irritability, arising from a temperament typically Slavic, and humbly acknowledging it she continued to labor for the acquisition of the virtue she desired. She was never to be completely freed from the imperfection of human nature and all her life evidenced traces of the weakness. With genuine sincerity, however, she always admitted her frailty, and never failed to ask forgiveness if a hurt feeling resulted from the demonstration of the fault.
During the novitiate when the light of the Holy Ghost floods every corner and crevice of the soul, bringing out of the shade the minutest traces of all that is undesirable on the way to sanctity, she saw her weakness in all its vividness. But she began to exaggerate the seriousness of the task and this torment of mind constituted a trial which she had to bear. Her extremely delicate conscience became troubled and a scrupulosity resulted which was the cause of many moments of anguish. Her only saving grace was the obedience to her confessor which she had learned from her St. Veronica and had long trained herself to give.
One little incident from her novitiate days throws light on the delicate conscience of Mother Veronica. She had been allowed to retain possession of an alarm clock given to her by one of her friends at the Dominican convent. One day by mistake, she set the clock an hour earlier than that at which the Community arose. When it went off she cried: “Be still and stop the unbecoming noise at this unearthly hour.” At the recreation gathering she related the morning’s happening to the Sisters in the presence of Mother Hedwig, who in a spirit of fun, jokingly said: “Sister, that was a breach of the grand silence.” Sister Veronica took the joke seriously and made of her action material for the chapter of faults.
Frequent fears lest she offend the Lord; doubts that she had resisted God’s grace; an unhealthy apprehension of an evil that awaited her for neglecting a minute detail of her holy rule – these became the chief cross of her novitiate days. It was a temptation that assailed her delicate soul with diabolical insistence making Satan’s struggle for its possession plainly visible. But she came out of the battle unscathed, with a firmer trust and a deeper hope in the goodness of her Master. Her novitiate days closed on a calm and cloudless state of mind and soul. The same interior trials were to return later with greater vehemence, but consecrated by her profession she recognized them for what they were – the tempting wiles of the devil.
Her profession took place November 12 of the following year. When the Reverend Eugene Dudzinski, O.F.M., Provincial of the Immaculate Conception Province of the Friars Minor asked in the presence of the Congregation, “My child, what do you want?” In sincerity, she answered: “For the love of God, the Blessed Virgin Mary, our Holy Father St. Francis, and all the saints, despite my unworthiness, I most humbly beg to be admitted to the holy profession of my vows that I may do penance, correct my defects, and serve God faithfully unto death.” And when he further asked whether she was firmly resolved to persevere in her vocation and to be perpetually espoused to the Lord, whether she would serve God during her whole life by fulfilling the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, and did she desire to follow perpetually the Christ crucified in imitation of His most chaste Mother and the Seraphic St. Francis, rendering herself a victim for the Church and the salvation of souls, she answered to each that she was firmly resolved and with God’s help desired to do so.
After the prayer in which the presiding Father prayed that the merciful God defend her from every worldly vanity, secular impediment and carnal desire; that He mercifully grant that she may be able to persevere devoutly in her holy purpose and regular observance and be united with the elect, she pronounced her vows of poverty, chastity and obedience to Almighty God.
She then received the black veil by which she would henceforth be known to have forsaken the world and to have given herself truly and humbly, with her whole heart and her whole affection, as a Spouse of Jesus Christ who would defend her from evil and conduct her to life eternal.
She would now remain steadfast in heavenly virtue, firm in faith, sincere in fidelity, and as a Spouse of Christ perpetually chaste. Finally, she received the crown of thorns in commemoration of Christ’s passion. When she added: “Behold what I have desired I see; what I have hoped for, I possess; I am united with Him in heaven, whom I have loved with all my heart in this life” her joy was complete; she was now one with her Master, His servant and His Spouse, a holocaust on the altar of His live.
In the quiet of the convent chapel she spent the greater part of the important day thanking God that He had brought her from the distractions of the world to this haven of peace and sanctity. She expressed her appreciation for the grace to be counted among His chosen ones. She begged that He pour into her cold heart drops of His most precious blood, so that she would return love for love according to the limitations of her weak nature. She thanked St. Francis for the blessing to be counted among his children and asked him, too, to beg for a small portion of the virtue that he had practiced faithfully and had made him so pleasing to the Sacred Heart. Admitting her nothingness she begged that he gain for her from the Source of all Love a spirit of charity towards all, help in the renunciation of her will and in the practice of the rule according to which she would some day be judged. She asked for fidelity to what she had voluntarily accepted so that she would some day be made to hear from her merciful Judge the words: Come my Spouse, take the crown which I have prepared for you.
The days after her profession flowed on uninterruptedly like a gentle stream towards the waters of eternity, differing little from each other in matters that caught the current eye. They were filled with ordinary tasks, sewing, embroidery, such manual labor as was necessary in the convent, and occasionally teaching the village children who came there for religious instruction. They were simple tasks, but, highly supernaturalized in the light of her religious vows, they bore inestimable fruit for eternity.
Her religious exercises consumed a large part of her day. In these she was known for her marked fervor. She loved the chanting of the office on in choir and looked forward with eager anticipation to each time the bell summoned the Sisters for this duty. If there was anything that marked her as exceptional it was her interior life of prayer. It was, however, the result of a habit of many years, channeled now into grooves regulated by the duties of a well-ordered day according to the rules of a community life.
In Warsaw she had to seek out the shadow of the tabernacle in her parish church; here she had the chapel and the King of Kings under the same roof which gave her shelter. The chapel was her most cherished spot, and the Sacred Heart, behind the veiled door of the tabernacle her strongest motive for being there. She had always loved the Sacred Heart and here she could pour out the torrents of love that all but consumed her Franciscan soul. In language familiar and intimate she conversed with her Spouse entrusting Him the cares of Mother Church, particularly those in her own country where the progress of the faith was hampered by a foreign rule. She had lived long years in the city that was the very heart of all the conniving and planning to destroy the influence of the faiths in her people, to eradicate its memory from the minds of her innocent children, to enslave the nation with a philosophy alien to the instincts of its moral being. Her zeal for the Church, her love for the Vicar of Christ, her recognition of her obligation to serve the members of Christ’s mystical body – all fostered her apostolate of prayer.
If she could be depended upon to do over and above her share of the allotted tasks during the day, she could likewise be depended upon to supply an ample share of the evening’s diversion. The spirit of enjoyment at the recreation hour was always augmented by her presence. She had a native wit, and a charming gaiety that made her always welcomed by all. She had the gift of story telling and sometimes kept her audience of Sisters spell-bound by recounting the antics of some illusory character conjured up by her vivid imagination to provide mirth for the collected group. She used this gift later in America, in the early days of the community when it was the only thing that could be used to assuage the lonesomeness of the first vocations. A story from Mother Veronica comforted many an aching heart.
Sometimes the superior, Mother Hedwig, prompted discussions in which all the Sisters took part during the hour of recreation. All types of subjects entered here, from the serious theological topic of the morning’s meditation to the contents of a letter Sister Anne received that day. The latter brought the news that another family from the adjacent village had joined the trek of the Utopia seekers in the land across the sea. Last week it was the neighbors from the bordering farm, this week it is the family mentioned, and so, they continue in a nerve-ending stream to leave the land of their birth in order to find better living conditions in the United States of America. During the course of a conversation like this, expression of concern for the religious well-being of their brethren always found its way into the discussion, Mother Hedwig voicing it the strongest.
Mother Hedwig loved the people of her country with a love that was as boundless as the vaulted sky over it. The welfare of her people, both physical and moral, entered into the intentions of the Sisters’ daily prayers and sacrifices. The injustices which they had to suffer because of the oppression of their stronger neighbors, the ignorance to which they were condemned by virtue of that subjection, the material poverty that was their lot, made her sensitive heart suffer keenly. When they left the shores of their native land in search of a new and better life, her concern followed them. She had dedicated her own life to solitude and prayer in the convent, but that did not preclude her aiding in a spiritual way her brothers and sisters who she knew were in need, not only at home but in distant America.
Little wonder then, that when an invitation came from far-off America from the pastor of a small parish in Mount Carmel, Pennsylvania, for Sisters to teach the children of his immigrant parishioners, Mother Hedwig did not dismiss it lightly. The pastor had pleadingly begged her for help. She gave the matter long and serious consideration. To save the souls of these innocent children and countless numbers that would follow them! This was an appeal from God, from their redeemer and Savior! The request had come to her, and therefore the Lord wanted this expressly from the Bernardines. She must find some way to answer the call for help for the children of her beloved Master. Her prayers were intensified and sacrifices increased to beg for enlightenment for her decision – one upon which the fate of countless souls would depend.
In due time, strengthened by prayer, and fortified by the conviction that this was distinctly the prompting of the Divine Spirit, she made her decision. She would sacrifice a few members from her community, send them to distant America where they would commence the work that suffered no delay. Since this was God’s work, God would surely provide; means and vocations would not be wanting, and great benefits would come to the souls of her people in the land so far away. What matter that there will be suffering and hardship before the venture will be a success? Is not the importance of the work far greater than the suffering that it entails? Can not she, though the mother of the flock entrusted to her care, find magnanimity enough to near the sacrifice of her loving daughters? What matter that the separation will be hard, and peace of mind shaken by the uncertainty of the future before them in the unknown land far away?
If the decision to accept the responsibility of taking on this work was made with deliberation, the choice of one who could be entrusted with the new work, was likewise not hastily made. She must be a true Franciscan in spirit and mind, tried in the experience of life, loyal and devoted to her Community. More, she must be a woman of solid virtue, one whom the temptations of life cut off from the well-regulated order of the convent would find impervious to. For it was the community that was to be transplanted and the new plant had to be the healthiest. All else will come in time according to the promise of the Lord made to those seeking his kingdom. Such were the sincere and genuine motives of the one whose decision resulted in the presence of the Bernardines in America today.
How strange the ways of Providence! How mysterious its designs! It had never entered the mind or heart of Sister Veronica that she would be the one chosen for this important mission. She had known no happiness greater than the present one; she never expressed the fact that she could be counted among those who cherish that wish to engage in a similar work; on the contrary she had made known her disinclination for parting from the land she loved. Surely her name would never be entered on the list.
And yet it was Sister Veronica who Mother Hedwig’s choice for superior of the first band of Bernardines that she would send to the new world. Mother Hedwig had her reasons for making the choice, but assuredly it was due to the inspiration of the Holy ghost who had been fashioning with care for a long time the instrument of the Divine will for the chosen work. Sister Veronica was humble, self-effacing, aware of her deficiencies, wholly submissive to God’s will. Since this was to be His work, to be started in a way that would be a tribute for generations to come to His Almighty power, He would use the one who realized and meekly admitted that the human potency was wholly absent; one whose work avowedly would remain as a testimony to the words that in vain would he build if the Lord Himself would not build the house.
Mother Hedwig next consulted the reverend Father Provincial in the matter and he gave his immediate permission and fatherly blessing for the undertaking. Strangely, he too, named Sister Veronica, in his words the oldest and most trusted, as head of the group. The same letter contains the tender words of a solicitous father: “Do not fear America, my dearest Sisters. The distance to God is equally great there as it is in Europe. The salvation of souls is tremendously important, and he who sacrifices himself for God, is granted the necessary grace and sufficient physical strength and health for the work. I knew souls, who knowing they were to go to America, impatiently awaited their departure, yet, when the moment drew near they hesitated to make the sacrifice. You must admit that this was a temptation of the devil. If the same fears were to overtake you, resist...”
(Unfortunately the rest of the letter has been lost.)
There was little formality in the scene when it was announced to Sister Veronica that the decision had finally been made for the Bernardines to answer the appeal of need in the United States and that she would be the one heading the first group assigned to make the sacrifice. But the order did not come to a soul ready to accept the command without hesitation. She understood the demands of her vow of obedience, but was this in reality the will of God? Perhaps her superior did not know her fully and had overestimated her ability to assume responsibility for the daring venture. Perhaps, she herself had been to blame for not exposing with greater frankness her frailties and utter lack of traits so necessary for a work of this kind. Doubts assailed her with unrelenting fury, and it was only when she had been assured by her confessor that this was really God’s will since she had taken the vow of obedience and this was an appointment from her rightful superior, that she meekly submitted to the order given. There was absolutely no hesitation now, only a serenity of mind that comes with the assurance that all will be well for He who has made known His will will bear the burden and lighten the yoke.
She entered into the preparations for the journey with a lightness of he
art that she had not long before experienced. Her companions were to be Sister Frances Thomalla, a young Sister of twenty-four, Sister Catherine Bakalarz and Sister Gertrude Widmunt, and a tertiary Barbara Jasinska. Mother Hedwig made the necessary arrangements with the ordinary, the Most Reverend Ignatius Loboza of Tarnow, for permission for Sister Veronica and Sister Frances, the two with vows, to leave the cloister. The cost of the journey, about sixty dollars for each, was to be borne by the parish of St. Joseph of Mount Carmel, so there was little trouble with procuring the steamship tickets. In fact, the money was sent in advance.
The concern over the last details of the departure were eased by the loving hearts and willing hands of the Sisters in Zakliczyn, the companions of Sister Veronica and the others. Solicitude for the contents of their baggage was evidenced freely. Sister Joseph surrendered her new brown rosary beads to Sister Frances; Mother Hedwig gave up her new habit that she had never worn. Sister Elizabeth gave to everything a touch of her tears.
The ship in which they were to make the trip was to leave Bremen October 6, and since Sister Frances had permission to visit her mother in Upper Silesia, she left with Sister Catherine September 28, Wednesday. Sister Veronica and the other two sisters were to leave Monday, October 1. A visiting priest from the Reformed Friars Minor from Cracow was to accompany the two going to Upper Silesia part of the way. When the Father appeared at the convent to announce that all was in readiness for the departure, the pain of separation was felt in all its intensity. Copious were the tears that fell despite the spirit of resignation and humble submission to obedience. But there was no time to lose, and soon after the sad adieus they were on their way in a horsedrawn carriage, leaving behind their dear convent with all its pleasant memories. They drove along the country road to the town of Zakliczyn, through the narrow streets of the town, past the market place, then the last dwelling house at the edge of the town, into the wide thoroughfare to the station in Gromnik from where they were to take the train to Cracow.
In Cracow the Very Reverend Father Provincial greeted them with words of fatherly affection. He spoke to them at length in words revealing his solicitude for the success of the undertaking, and his keen interest in the salvation of his brothers and sisters across the sea; in expressions of kind-hearted sympathy for the Sisters in the difficult task that had been assigned to them. He encouraged them to be persevering and undaunted in the face of hardship and assured them that the Lord’s presence would always be felt and that St. Francis, His beloved Son, would be their mainstay and support. Reflection on the parting words of the Father Provincial gave Mother Veronica encouragement at various times later during the difficult days in the United States.
Other Fathers, also, from this Franciscan monastery assisted in the ceremony of departure. Father Matthew brought a package of holy cards with the image of the Blessed Mother, and presenting them as a parting gift added his own words of encouragement. Father Conrad in surplice and stole imparted the benediction for travelers before the altar of the Immaculate Conception. The superior blessed their rosaries and their crucifixes. They were well supplied with spiritual help before setting out on the long journey that lay ahead.
On Monday, October 5, the group met at Wroclaw, from where they were to take the train and go by way of Berlin to the port city of Bremen, where their steamship, the Ems, lay in waiting. It was a silent and pensive group that rode through East Germany on their way to the sea that October day in 1894. Sister Frances memory of her weeping, though resigned mother, still held her helplessly captive; Sister Veronica surrendered herself with the unknown future in prayer to her Almighty God.
And back in Zakliczyn in the convent Mother Hedwig and the six Sisters who remained behind entered on a period of a double fasting and prayer to obtain God’s help on the new undertaking. The Sacred Heart convent was to remain the power house of prayer in the years to come whence came the spiritual strength energizing the active work of the Bernardine Sisters in the new world.
