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1863 We carry out procedures in the museum of the uprising: two stamps appear in the passports of the pilgrims. And then Regina Galvanauskienė, the administrator of Father Stanislovas’ properties, accompanies us towards the Parish House built and fed by Father himself.
Work as therapy
The parish house greets us with a wall of polished copper pots to shine. Father Stanislaus was able to convince people that work could often be the best therapy.
“But if I hadn’t scrubbed together, and they wouldn’t have. We hung those scraped copper pots on the wall, shiny like new big buttons. What a beauty!” – Our guide counts every word of Father Stanislaus with love.
Like Saint Peter, she opens the door to the Capuchin monk’s cell with a huge package of keys. The room is ascetically small. The sanded table surface draws attention to the window – it’s so shiny and smooth it looks like someone has rubbed it with their elbows for days.
“It is Father Stanislaus’ favorite thing,” smiles Mrs. Regina. “She was not going anywhere without her, he was dragging her everywhere: not to a table, only to the top of a table. See?” He shows, “as if the elbow prints were visible?”
We learn that Father Stanislaus was immersed in the writings of existentialist philosophers, translated the poems of his beloved poet Rainer Maria Rilke, and spoke up to seven languages.
The tree has memory
There is a lot of wood in these houses. His depressions are reminiscent of a man whose physical existence ended fifteen years ago. A wooden commemorative cross with three monastic vows nodes in the churchyard of Paberžė testifies that Father Stanislovas no longer exists.
Energy: When Mrs. Regina suddenly fills up, tears flow down the streams.
The spirit of the Father, who still feels strongly, flows between the walls of the Parish House, painted with film bells. She is here everywhere. Both in the kitchen next to the pots and in the conversation room next to the old piano, opened by Mrs. Regina, and once by a musicologist and music educator, the room is full of music sounds that tickle the most deep of the heart.
He would like these houses to always be full of people. Finding refuge in Paberžė for both those who are good and those who want to drown right now.
“Do you understand some music?” She asks, admitting that her fingers, which have rotted since they cleared the grass, now touch weeds more often than the black and white keys on the old piano. “No …” – we shook our heads, asking her in her mind that only she would not stop.
Music is fascinating. It takes you to memories. Although, given our relationship with Father Stanislaus, they are zero. Who is Father Stanislaus? And who is this God? Anais, although already at the time of the revival, knew that it could be found in the most beautiful paintings of all the churches. Unfortunately, we had not yet been reborn … Maybe that’s why we met the famous Capuchin monk, who was accompanied by miles of people every day (especially on weekends), to be baptized, married, accompanied on the last trip, just by rumors.
Ascetic and modest
Surprisingly, Father Stanislaus lived infinitely ascetic and modest when he received so many followers, friends, strays, strangers, misfortunes daily.
There is no water supply in the kitchen of the parish house, where we baked the egg from Mrs. Aušvicienė’s chickens (from the nearby town of Žibartoniai) the next morning. Take it from the well water, pour it into one bowl and use the other as a sink.
“Father Stanislaus did not need any service,” smiles Mrs. Regina, who organized dinner for us weary pilgrims. After all, there is no store in Paberžė. And why is she here? For the six people who live in the town?
The fingers of one hand would be enough to count all the peasants. He is the administrator of Father Stanislaus and was renovated in 1863. Regina Galvanauskienė, the director of the uprising museum, her husband, a popular artist, and then the lady in the hat (which is why Regina laughs at herself in her youth) he responded with a Šiauliai explosion to the village. Also, his son and Martí Alina. All yours. Working, as they say, in memory of the doctor of the soul, Father Stanislaus. Not only how, but how you would like it.
A house open to all.
“He would like these houses to always be full of people. To find refuge in Paberžė both for those who are good and for those who want to drown right now,” Regina recalls a recent story when a businessman who no longer wants to live in Paberžė. .
According to the woman, she (like other family members working here) has a duty not only to preserve the treasures of Paberžė’s cultural heritage, but also to open the doors of the Paberžė Soul Healing Center to all who care about it. need.
Don’t be distracted: Father Stanislaus painted the wooden altar in calm colors so people can focus more easily on prayer.
And for us, we believe, feeling something crawling on a wooden chair with incomprehensible force puts an old magazine in your hands (there are whole piles of them here) and tells us to unintentionally scatter the yellowed leaves. And when weary fingers stop shaking with Soviet women, the stars, the prayers, and the volumes of Rilke’s poems, we stop, walk, and drive with our eyes under the walls, the windowsills, the shelves, the doors and even the ceilings adorned with the Father’s own hands.
Carved angelic wood, carved sunny metal, hundreds of attached keys, antique displays: kerosene lamps, wooden clogs, skates, pots, bowls, on the added shelves … Where to look, just history. And we are like exhibits behind the invisible STOP strip “The touch is forbidden” – part of it.
Respect for human work.
These are the carved natural wood beds in which our parents and grandparents slept. And with what additional skates, they tied them to shoes, hung on the frozen scores. And what prayer books they prayed for.
When the old frame of the church or altar painting broke, the Father did not release the details. The carved bitch was also picked up by the bitch on the walls, composing them in various ways. “After all, the teacher carved every flower, leaf, cross, ornament with the greatest love, putting a piece of his heart. Even if it is broken, it should not be thrown away. It is necessary to honor the work of a person”, said.
We only regret one thing: not having taken our daughter here. The priest of Paberžė is a true collector of things for the second life. And the nailer: we joke around walking under the covers of melodious bells (Mrs. Regina even plays with them!). We admire the suns hanging on the walls, they say that about 30 thousand have been made this year!
Time to visit Paberžė
And our son would like more peace around Paberžė. Like the Father’s words, “When I spread peace around me, I begin to be filled with peace.”
One thing that worries him is that Mrs. Regina seems to be upset about the little boy. Or perhaps you are not very inclined to cool our mouths with us: religious tourists or perhaps tourist pilgrims. There are not one or two passersby who pass by this place every day.
Miracle: At night, the modest stained glass windows of the church will paint the chandeliers in all the colors of the rainbow.
He crawls with Mrs. Regina at night, so determined and hungry that even for 39 years, Paberžė, who was created and appreciated by Father Stanislovas, no longer wants to see. Just sleep and hit the road again … Trying to shed the most polite light possible on the guardian of the spirit of Paberžė and its celebrities.
How can you think that a person who comes to Paberžė will take something? It forbids me to think that. Man needs to be trusted.
We feel a little guilty that we are not different. Mankurts Advancing alone, but avoiding his past. “Is it possible,” we hesitate to ask, “when we rest our tired legs a bit, to ask for a tour of Father Stanislaw’s estate?”
“Of course,” as if he was looking at “Call me when you rest: I’ll show you everything.”
Tour of life
And here we are, two quiet lambs of God, obediently calling Mrs. Regina from behind, feeling that what we will hear now, we will see, will be the best excursion of our whole lives.
The lockable barn door creaks. Now here is the exposition of the Arnot, collected by the Father himself from all the shadow. Oh, how many sacred robes adorned there, the robes of the higher priests, once worn during Holy Mass. Made of noble ladies’ dresses, embroidered with gold thread, dating from the 18th century. Although they fade, moths are chewed, in some places, like a scar, but the historical burden, the spirit of the past is concentrated in the will.
“I drove through the Lithuanian churches and asked the priests. I say, ‘Why do you feed the moths?’ Give it to me I have helpers We will clean, we will ventilate, we will order. ”These are still, according to museologist Regina, the Father.
On the second floor, we can see the Lithuanian tricolor, which is sewn from remnants of material and has already completely vanished, having only one red band. Although threatened with imprisonment for her detention, security guards threatened to take the father to Siberia for the third time, but he only scoffed: “And what did I not see there? Let him transport. He will no longer show up.”
Perhaps symbolic is the only blood color left on the faded flag. Because for everything he did well for others: whether he cured souls or calmed a weary spirit, Father Stanislaus had to pay a high price. If it is not blood, then health. In order for the brave idea to spread during the war, in the post-war years, he had to work for ten years in the coal mines of the Inta camp.
“But even there,” says Regina, “he found little joys. He was there, he dropped them in carts into the well, and then he led them through long tunnels to places where the coal had to be cut. As he walked down the corridor a kilometer, he sang and sang. ” rejoices. “
Stained glass miracles
Another brilliant package of keys opens the door of the church of Paberžė, whose foundations are protected by heavy stone mills. Paraphrasing the Father’s words, both for strength and for beauty.
The woman says that sometimes she noticed a monk here so sad, as if she was thinking. Then, as he used to say, prayer helped. He added that praying is necessary in an intimate setting.
This is what she created in the church: here there were no bright colors or distracting lighting. Only the wooden altar, painted in the softest colors of the Father himself, and kerosene lamps between the stations of the Way of the Cross. Without luxury, without gold, without pomp. All with taste and subtle aesthetics.
The churches in Paberžė were once very poor. In addition to beautiful paintings, wood carvings, wood ceilings (these were hidden under steel sheets).
“It is too early, too early …”, something like a whisper before our guide. Turns out, around eight-thirty at night, the church’s modest stained glass windows miraculously paint chandelier bouquets in all the colors of the rainbow. And bright sun bunnies are playing in the cold metal, bringing to life the Church of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary in Paberžė.
The door was kept open
Mass in Paberžė takes place only on Sundays, when the priest arrives. Regardless, the church doors are closed to beggars – because many valuable church relics have been stored here.
I remember: Father Stanislaus’ place of eternal rest in the Paberžė cemetery is marked by a cleverly carved wooden cross. Three knots: three vows from a Capuchin monk.
Once Regina started counting them so that no one would disappear, Dad even scolded him: “How can you think that a person who comes to Paberžė will take something? I forbid you to think that way. A person needs trust.”
And, in fact, as long as Father Stanislaus was alive, he kept the entire door open, day and night. It meant respect for the guest, accepting it with an open heart. “She was very stubborn,” Mrs. Regina shook her head. “If something goes wrong, let’s say that it is not respectable to celebrate Holy Mass on the back of the Blessed Sacrament; nobody will speak.” he came back three years later. “
The Father knew how to communicate with everyone with respect, never insulting, but always praising, encouraging.
Small miracles
We look forward to that magical hour of lamp transformation when three modest metal hangers will feel the power of color metamorphosis against their will. And indeed, we see pink, yellowish and bluish openwork in the first flicker of the afternoon sun’s rays …
Then the heart is filled with a wonderful feeling of peace. Thank God there are places on earth where you can feel in harmony with yourself. Thank God there are such wonderful ways that lead to the knowledge of oneself, the Most High and our own land.
And Mrs. Regina is still pinching her fingers on her keychain rosary and waiting for something else. “Soon the other two will come on. I even invited Daddy here once. I said, let’s go see those little miracles.”
We are all waiting We color, in the words of the Father, speaking in silence, listening to the wisdom of the Father reborn on the lips of Mrs. Regina: “) The Creator has given the sun the power to color the morning, the noon, the afternoon The suns we create color the days and nights of our loved ones, and their rays reach even the most secret depths of the soul. “
Father’s mission continues
“The father knew how to communicate with everyone with respect, without offending, but always praising and encouraging,” recalls Regina Galvanauskienė. This is how we really feel, because the current keeper of the memory of Paberžė continues the father’s mission perfectly.
He welcomes Paberžė in such a way that there is never a shortage of people here, especially young people. Organize educational excursions for older students. It also opens for us the modern arranged 1863. The door of the museum uprising. After briefly telling about the leader of the uprising Antanas Mackevičius, about the lives of the people of the Paberžė area after the uprising, the brutal repressions, the vicissitudes of the language ban, suddenly thrives in the chair.
“I’m going to chat with you,” as if to justify, “and there are untreated garden beds in my mind.” Other travelers are also asking for dinner. I tell you: the kitchen is full of other pilgrims who have been left behind: rice, pasta, oats. Just cook and eat healthy. “
Full of joy everywhere
We go up to the second floor of the museum, where paintings collected from the plein airs of various Lithuanian artists await us. In general, Father Stanislaus. Mrs. Regina seems to be coming to life with her: she no longer wants to weed her gardens, but she wants to open our souls to her, since she, a lady with a hat, once followed her husband, popular artist, to the village and … father changed it.
“Instantly he saw through my interior and asked me to wash the church floor with love the next day,” the woman laughs that there were no floor brushes like this one in her youth. So I had to find a simple linen cloth and run it around the church on all fours. Once, second, third …
“The problem was that, even after the third time, I did not feel love for my work, as the Father had said,” Regina recalls, even without understanding the great wisdom of the Father about why everything should be done with love.
“We all want to be happy. And how can we be happy?” He said.
The father really knew how to enjoy it all: both the Stations of the Cross painted by popular masters and the electric organ, and the 17th century. Paintings that recall the Bernardine monks, theirs saved, framed and hung in the church. “Joy is everywhere, you just have to look. And you will be happy,” he used to say.
Lives changed
And we are happy. Let’s sit down and listen to Mrs. Regina’s memories. While shopping for pets, she tried to be a farmer: raising a chicken, milking a cow, driving a horse, helping a man to close the garden.
There used to be, those chickens don’t listen to me at all and I have to put them all in the barn at night. Keep crying and crying.
Warmth: Here are the variegated quilts that the girls decorated the parish house and added an angel to each.
“And how I was afraid of him, of that horse.” I shed so many tears for my farm … There used to be – those chickens don’t listen to me at all, and I have to take them all to the barn at night. He’s still crying and crying, “she shares her memories.
Mrs. Regina had to learn many life lessons. And to take off his hat, drop the strict tone of the teacher, and share with the people everything he has at home to avoid, Dad sends it through the people on good days and a roll of rustic smoked sausage. And in a few days, she wonders if Regina and her residents of her parish house would share the treats from her garden.
“At first I didn’t understand his tactics,” he recalls. “Why should I ?! After all, I didn’t ask for any gifts, so why should I share mine now?” Only much later, after having lived in Paberžė for several years, the woman says that she bought the Father’s tricks that changed her and made her a completely different person.
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