MSB and I had an absolute blast blast at the Polish Festival this past weekend. We ate Polish food, met people who still speak the language (some of whom are new here in America), watched some wonderful dancers in colorful costumes swirl to the music of their native land–and we applauded the finishers of the 5K Pickle Run and waved at the folks who drove down Main Street in the parade. Small town America is special, but when the small town consists primarily of one particular nationality, it’s even more so. The melding of cultures is beautiful.
I can’t believe how much I’ve been blessed by these people. Yes, this is MSB’s hometown, but I’m a relative stranger. Still, they seem to embrace me and consider me one of their own. There is no greater gift one human can give another than acceptance, and I feel accepted by them.
This post is going to be short, because I’m sharing the stories about our weekend in my newsletter. So if you want to know how crazy a redhead can get when she’s on her own, or what happens when one mixes balloons and kids, be sure to sign up!
You’re not Polish yourself, right? Do you speak the language?
No, I’m Irish, but once a year, I practice saying “jak sie masz!”
I married a half Polish guy. Learned to love sausage along with him. Glad you had a great time!
We did have a great time. I’m so ready to go back! I’m not a big fan of kielbasa, though it’s okay, but there’s a sausage maker in Bremond–Groholski–who makes a *killer* smoked sausage! We always buy several pounds when we go, and it rarely last long!