Conntecting the Dots

The Cheese Seller

Wednesday afternoon was a break for us, so we took Neal and June and a couple other friends into the nearby town of Zakopane, a destination much like a mini Whistler. In the summer, this place bustles with horse-drawn carriages pulling tourists on cobblestone streets. Open market vendors sell local wares such as smoked sheep cheese, amber jewelry, and carved wooden toys. One might even see a whole pig roasting on a spit. Today, however, the streets were much quieter. The touristy shops were open, but they don’t carry the same appeal for me as the open markets.

I did, however, experience a special treat. One of our friends had stopped to buy something from a sidewalk booth, and as I waited, a cute Polish granny approached me. She said something to me in Polish, so I answered, “I’m sorry – I speak only English.” A big smile spread across her face and she responded with, “Would you like to buy some cheese?”

cheese-selling Polish granny

She was holding a large plastic mixing bowl in one arm and pulled a small tote bag on wheels behind her. “Sweet cheese,” she said, tipping the bowl my direction. “It’s very good. Try some.” She whipped out a sharp knife and cut a slice from the ball of white cheese that filled the entire bowl. She was right. The delicacy was mild and smooth with a hint of sweetness.

Next, she opened her tote and pulled out a plastic bag containing other cheeses – some smoked, some plain. These local cheeses are formed into shapes such as sheep or flowers or little carved barrels. I remember enjoying these smoked, salty cheeses here last year so I made my choice and paid her about $3 for the treat. She beamed. I couldn’t resist giving her the traditional Polish kiss on each cheek. And she beamed again.

The most amazing thing about this incident was that Granny spoke English beautifully. Finding a senior who speaks English at all is unusual especially in rural regions. “Where did you learn to speak English?” I asked her. “I used to live in Chicago,” she said. That makes perfect sense. Chicago has a huge Polish community. She probably has a son or daughter who moved to the States and took her along.

I wish we’d had more time to visit with her. It would have been fun to have tea with her and hear her stories, but we had to catch a bus back to our conference venue because the marriage conference was scheduled to start in a couple of hours.

As I write this, we’ve now completed three of the marriage sessions and have two left. Gene and I taught two sessions today – Communication and Companionship, and it was a ton of fun to share from our lives with our IM staff. What a precious group of men and women. What a joy to mentor and encourage them! Ministry doesn’t get much more fulfilling than this.

6 Responses to “The Cheese Seller”

  1. Sandra Klassen

    I love the cheese-selling Granny already. She must get really cold walking around town selling her cheese. We can often take things for granted to easily.

    BTW Your daughter did a great job last Wednesday.
    I’m praying for you.

    Reply
    • Grace

      Yes, she was a real sweetie! Thanks for your prayers — I’m thinking of the group and wondering how you’re doing.

      Reply
  2. Krista

    I love this story so much, Grace! 🙂 I’m smiling so big here in my little cubicle in Washington, happily transported to snowy Poland by your words. 🙂

    Reply
  3. Sherry Loewen

    Oh how I wish I had some that cheese right now! That sounds heavenly!
    Enjoy it for me!!

    Reply
  4. Sherry Loewen

    We’re good! Thanks for asking. 🙂
    We’re waiting for you to come home. We miss you.

    Reply

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