Greater Poland Uprising

 

December 27, 1918

Maria Kulig woke up early today; it was extremely strange, because she usually liked to laze around and sleep as long as possible. But today was different.

She got out of bed; her room was cold. Shivering, she knelt and said a prayer: "...Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen."

She looked at the small window, the only one in her room.

"And there's no snow again, too bad," she said sadly.

She dressed in her school uniform. She buttoned the last button and went to the kitchen.

Maria is eleven years old, has black hair and equally dark eyes. Although a bit small for her age, she is very intelligent and has a very big heart. She loves no one more than her brother Piotr and her mother Anna.

When Marysia entered the kitchen, her mother was already at the table, preparing breakfast.

"Hello, Mommy!

" "Good morning, my daughter. Why did you get up so early?"

"Whoever gets up early, the Lord God gives," she replied with a smile.

Her mother smiled back at this sudden change in her daughter's preferences.

Just as Marysia was finishing her cup of milk, her beloved brother walked in. Piotr was seventeen and already attending a different school than Maria. "

Good morning," Piotr said briskly.

They ate breakfast together in silence. Finally, they swallowed the last bite of bread.

"Well, children, off to school," her mother said.

Maria groaned quietly. She didn't like school. She had to speak German there, and the teachers were very unkind to her. At home, they spoke Polish, that's how she learned, but outside she had to speak German. One day, during a lesson, she said she wouldn't speak German because her mother taught her a different language at home... later she regretted it very much. Mr. Schwarz, her math teacher, became very angry and she received ten lashes. This hurt her deeply. She promised herself she would never anger any teacher again.

She remembers once asking why she spoke Polish at home and German outside. She only remembers her mother saying, "Because we live in the Prussian Partition," and that it was the right thing to do. Although Maria didn't know what "partition" was or what "Prussian" meant, she knew what "must" meant, though she really disliked the word, she said, "Aha."

The Poznań sun didn't want to shine brightly today; it hid behind billowy, leaden clouds and let out faint rays from time to time. Only a terribly cold wind blew, biting into her neck and eyes. Marysia looked at Piotr, who was walking beside her, and felt a little warmer. "My heart would probably freeze if I didn't have Piotrek and Mommy," she thought.

Her brother walked her to school. She entered the building with great reluctance. Her classes were passing very slowly. Finally, after classes ended, she stepped out into the fresh air. The square in front of the school was filled with students. Suddenly, Krysia, her classmate, ran up to her.

"Hey, Maryśka!" she shouted to Maria, then whispered in her ear. "Listen, did you know that Paderewski came to Poznań yesterday?"

Marysia looked at her and nodded.

"Of course, I know, Mom and Piotr were talking about it at home.

" "Well," she lowered her voice, "because we want to organize a welcome parade, specifically for him."

"We? I mean, who?" Marysia asked.

"Well, quite a few people have gathered. Janek Kwiatkowski came up with the idea. So? Are you coming with us?

" "Now?

" "Yes!" "

Of course, I'm coming, we're going to welcome Paderewski!"

Krysia smiled broadly.

Marysia had often heard about Mr. Paderewski at home. Mommy and Piotrek had talked about him. He was a world-famous pianist, she quickly recalled; a social activist and politician. Yesterday, Piotr had come home, saying that Mr. Paderewski had come to Poznań and had told Marysia about him. "Piotr knows a lot," Maria thought. Marysia was surprised that such a famous man wanted to come to Poznań, but Piotrek told her he was only passing through. "He's going from Paris to Warsaw." Piotr didn't have to tell Mommy; Mommy already knew. "Mommy knows a lot because she works in a bakery," Marysia thought. Maria's mother works in a bakery and sells bread. That's why she sometimes hears important news. They were supposed

to greet Mr. Paderewski at Wilhelmowski Square. Marysia was surprised that so many children were marching with her—almost the entire school. They walked to the square; more and more children were marching in this procession. Shouts of "Long live Ignacy Paderewski!" erupted every now and then. Marysia felt herself bursting with pride. "It HAD to be done," she said to herself, turned to Krysia, and smiled.

***

At 2 p.m., Maria returned home. No one knew that Maria had arrived home from school late, because no one was home yet. Marysia changed out of her school uniform and sat in the kitchen.

"I'll wait for Mommy..." she sighed.

Around 3 p.m., Piotrek arrived home, followed by Marysia's mother. The girl told them about her adventure today. To Marysia's surprise, neither her mother nor her brother were thrilled with her story.

"Child, something could have happened to you!" her mother shouted at her.

"But why..." Marysia stammered. "

The Germans want to exterminate everything Polish, do you understand?" They want you to forget that you are Polish, that you live under the Prussian partition, and that you are not supposed to talk or even think about any other nation, said Piotrek.

"Oh, not good, not good..." her mother complained.

"What's not good?" Maria asked.

"I don't know, such a march and demonstration, there could be trouble..."

Marysia looked at her family. Piotr and her mother were thinking about today's events. "What trouble?" Marysia thought, but seeing the worried faces of her mother and brother, she didn't ask any more questions.

***

The sky was growing darker, constellations of stars slowly piercing the velvety blue of the night. Marysia looked out her tiny window in the room.

"Too much to experience for one day."

But Marysia certainly didn't realize how important this day was, not just for her, and she certainly didn't think that this wasn't the end of the experience for just one ordinary day.

"But why is it so dark?" Marysia had never found it strange to speak her thoughts aloud. "What happened?"

She walked into the kitchen; Marysia's mother was sitting at the table by the candlelight.

"What happened?" asked Marysia. "Is there no electricity?"

She went outside. The street was pitch dark. Not a single lamp was lit, and there was no light in the window. Suddenly, Maria heard rifle shots.

"Mom! Mom! Did you hear that?" she ran into the house.

"Yes, my daughter," she said, terrified.

Piotr ran into the kitchen.

"What happened?!

" "Some shots, as if from the direction of the Bazaar..." she said, terrified.

"I'm going there," said Piotr.

Piotr ran for his jacket and was back in the blink of an eye.

"But, Piotr..." her mother began.

"Excuse me?"

"Be careful."

Marysia watched all this, slightly terrified. Where was Piotr going?

Both she and her mother watched him to the door. He ran as if on wings.

Maria, as usual, was sitting on her bed, staring out the window.

"This is my little window to the world," she whispered softly. "

But now this world is terrifying," thought Maria. Although the black sky was lit up by stars, Marysia flinched at every sound of gunfire. She kept watch. She took her rosary in her hand and began to pray.

"May Poznań finally be free from these terrible bangs," Marysia said, and looked deeply at the sky, as if to see if Mary was listening.

December 28, 1918,

Piotr arrived in the morning—at four o'clock. Marysia heard him enter the house. She went into the kitchen, where Mommy and Piotr were already talking. She was happy to see that Piotr was okay. Snippets of conversation reached her ears.

"...like Egyptian darkness!...Mommy will rise, he will rise normally..." Piotr spoke quickly.

"How? All at once?" Mommy asked.

"Well, it just happened," Piotr sighed. "Someone simply shot, and from there it all went downhill..."

"It's gone... What for? What's the point of all this? An uprising. We can't handle them. We. We don't even have equipment, nothing, trained people, officers who could lead it."

"What do you mean? Scouts and Sokół, there are plenty of boys to fight there.

" "Oh, there!" sighed Mom. "We've had four uprisings already, here in Greater Poland, and what? It'll always be like this. Although Poles at heart, things are different around us..." she concluded sadly.

Piotr only ate and slept for two hours, then grabbed his jacket again.

"Are you going again?" Marysia asked quietly.

"I have to, dear sister, I have to," he answered her.

"For whom? Why?"

"For Poland, for Greater Poland," Piotr said sadly.

"I don't want you to go there, I heard the shots, something will happen to you," his sister said with tears in her eyes.

Piotr remained silent.

"Do you love Poland more than me?" she asked.

"Marysia... You are Poland, Mom, this house, and all of Poznań, and I love nothing more than this. "

Piotr sat down and kissed Marysia on the forehead.

"Stay with God. Mom and Marysia.

" Marysia went to nestle in her mother's arms.

Epilogue

Mrs. Maria could barely move. She used a cane, leaning on it with trembling hands, but she was seen at the cemetery at least once a week.

Marysia stood before a gray marble slab with the name inscribed on it: Piotr Kulig. Her black eyes, staring at the photograph of her beloved brother, tried not to shed a single tear.

"You said I am Poland, that's true, but you probably forgot to add that you are Poland too, although you surely knew that. Poland is everything around me, a Polish ant and a clod of earth." You died nobly, not for yourself, but for those who will be… Today, although I can say that I live in Poland and that it's on the map, no one will bring you back. Not even the decoration that sits beautifully in my home, in a glass case: "Greater Poland, Mother of the Fallen