And as the days crawled by...maybe by the wedding...maybe by Thanksgiving...those days and weeks were pure torture for my soul. I couldn't concentrate, I couldn't pray, I wasn't functioning well emotionally. Yet we went through the motions. I along with all the mother's of the boys in captivity had the same thoughts in our minds...if the captives had their way we knew the women and children would be released first...we knew our son may be the last one remaining in the camp. And then what?...would my son be the one that would die for the sake of the rest of this group. So many tears were shed...yet, we felt a strange peace. I share with you the letter I wrote after their release. ...
When our family moved to Poland over twenty years ago, a friend told me that I must always remember to have a bubbling teapot, full and ready to serve...And it was true. A friend stopping in for a visit wasn't complete without a cup of tea! Consider this page as a place to stop for a cup of tea.