Notes from the Southern Lebanon, part 7: "Cardinal Ryś in the Galilee"

“The absence of war does yet not mean a peace” – this is one of the Cardinal’s Grzegorz Ryś statements that probably resonated the most during this visit. Theoretically, the war had been suspended from several months before, but there was still a huge tension caused by sporadic air raids and the lack of a clear declaration regarding a real, lasting peace agreement. On top of all this, there was pain, frustration and sadness that were felt and poured out from Lebanese hearts during the conversations with us.

Cardinal’s visit began with a meetings with the residents of Hadath (on the outskirts of Beirut), whom we helped rebuild their houses damaged in the war. However, the most important point was the trip to the South.

In his recording from the South, the Cardinal notes: “This place has its history but also its challenge. The challenge is for these Christian families who have lived here for centuries to be able to continue living (...) if we won’t help them, this place will be deserted. And it is a place of great Christian tradition. What is more important, these people who stay here have a sense of belonging and a sense of mission in this place”.

We started our visit with coffee and a conversation with the Sisters Antonines who run the school there. Then we started to walk around damaged and destroyed parts of the school that Sumar had recently talked about. At one point we entered through a broken wall into a small garden with a swimming pool and mini showers for the little ones. Everything was destroyed and turned into the rubble. The Cardinal looked around and, pointing with his hand, said: "Magda, the Gardens should be shown here"

It all seemed to fit perfectly with Magda's thoughts:

"I knew the school primarily from photos, when it was still intact. I understood the significance of this place, but theory and a message from someone is always only part of the truth about a given place. Later, after the air raids, I only got photos taken out of context, which, although they spoke more powerfully, did not show the scale of the destruction. The slightly bent blinds moving in the windows - this image stayed with me primarily under my eyelids. The visit to the school was a redefining point of this trip. Standing in the doorway of the classroom without walls, I did not know whether I was more of a mother who had come to pick up her daughter from school or a teacher who was about to start a lesson. Even tears appeared in a school manner in the toilet. Only those who saw it in a decidedly non-school manner approached my emotions, which took over.

What was a kindergarten garden in the eyes of the Cardinal became a place to show Gardens. And again shame, because I saw it right away. Planted flowers in what was a pond, works arranged around, hung on a bent fence. And everywhere paper flowers drawn by children. Everywhere. I am afraid to write that maybe the Third Edition of Gardes of Lebanon was created for this place. That maybe this will be the most perfect finale. That with the money from these works we will equip an art studio at school. That the show of Gardens in this place will turn into the continuation of art in its most appropriate version - in the hands of children, who will express their emotions through the language of creativity. That maybe one of the guests will want to pick up a piece of glass and prepare a work for the Epilogue. The finale. The continuation. The future."

Before we said goodbye to the sisters, we prayed together "Our Father" in Polish and Arabic.

“This school shows what it means to build peace in such a dramatic world” – the words of the Cardinal expressing exactly what we feel every time we are in this place.

Than we decided to visit the nearby village of Kfour. We started with a joint mass. At one point, the Cardinal was surrounded by children whom we had helped as part of the “First Step” or conducted trauma healing workshops for them. Then we went to see what the war had done to Kfour. In one place, we noticed a crater left by a house that had been hit so hard that stone fragments of the building were flying in all directions, destroying the surrounding houses and the roof of the church almost 100 meters away! The owners of the house were with us, standing a little in front of us and looking at this apocalyptic image. Older people. Then, during a joint dinner, a man approached the Cardinal and said: “I just wanted to die peacefully in my own home.” People were desperate, full of regret, and felt abandoned. This moment with the Polish guests gave them the opportunity to feel a brotherly bond, gave them hope, was a testimony that they had not been forgotten.

Both the sisters and the parish received some financial support from us and promises of help in the reconstruction. But something else was (once again) more important, expressed by the Cardinal in the following way:

"(...) the money we bring has a significant role (...), but what is more important is that we could be here with them. Everyone emphasized that this is what they need most today. Someone who will stand, embrace, be close."