Institute for Pastoral Initiatives News

By Sr. Angela Ann Zukowski, MHSH

I grew up in a 100% Polish family. In the early 1900s, both of my maternal and paternal grandparents arrived in the USA, settling in the eastern/mid-western region of the country. Preserving our Polish traditions, such as language, food, and faith, was paramount ... especially our faith.

My maternal grandmother brought an icon of Our Lady of Częstochowa, known as “The Patroness of Poland” or the “Black Madonna,” with her to the new country. This icon, measuring 24x32 inches, was enthroned in my grandparents’ home. Each night, the family gathered around the icon, praying the rosary accompanied with additional Polish prayers. Every time a significant event embraced a member of the family, we gathered in prayer to Our Lady of Częstochowa for guidance, protection, or healing. The memories of my childhood are rooted around our Polish Marian devotion.

In 1963, I joined a lay missionary group, known as the Mary Missioners, in the Diocese of Raleigh, North Carolina. The 1960s were violent, racial times in the South. However, our missionary group navigated the highways and byways of the state, proclaiming the Good News and serving the poor.

One day, the pastor of a parish in Thomasville, N.C., inquired if we could locate an icon of Our Lady of Częstochowa for the parish church. A growing number of Polish families were arriving in the area, but failed to come to church. Being immigrants in a foreign land with, what may have appeared as, “strange” Polish customs, may have isolated them from the “traditional, Southern” culture. The pastor hoped a shrine to Our Lady of Częstochowa may be an inspiration or encouragement for Polish families to participate in the spiritual life of the parish.

I contacted my grandmother, who was the President of the Polish Woman’s Club, seeking her aid to find a copy of the Polish Marian icon for the church. Several weeks later, a rather large package arrived, via Roadway Express. I opened the package and, to my astonishment, it was not a copy of the icon, but it was our family's Marian icon from Poland! I recognized it immediately by way of the unique frame.

I called my grandmother, perplexed as to why she would surrender a family heirloom of faith. Patiently, she indicated the icon had traveled from Poland to the US, and, for years, guided our family to safety. It was time for the Marian icon to travel once more, in support of Polish families in the South.

I reluctantly surrendered the Marian icon to the pastor, who quickly installed it within a niche in the main church. There, she rested for all of North Carolina to observe her; the famous, Polish “Black Madonna.”

In 1964, I entered the Mission Helpers of the Sacred Heart community. One summer, some of our Sisters in North Carolina indicated they were beginning a new mission in Thomasville. I asked them to visit the Church where the Polish icon was displayed and send me a picture of it. The Sisters agreed. However, when they entered the church, they could not find the icon displayed. They queried the new pastor, and he had no idea about it because it wasn’t there when he was assigned to the parish. I was devastated by the news. How could my family's Polish Marian icon simply disappear? Is it possible the “Black Madonna’s” image simply could not be tolerated in the South? I couldn’t tell my family this happened.

For many years, I called the parish … begging them to continue to search the church for the icon. It wasn’t until ten years later, a plumber, working underneath the church, discovered the icon resting between pipes in the basement. Amazed to discover such a beautiful icon, he presented it to the pastor. Fortunately, the pastor remembered my annual pleading to search for the icon. He called the Mission Helper Sisters and shared the discovery. The Sisters called me and brought the icon to Baltimore. I, then, picked it up, and brought it back with me to Dayton, Ohio.

Amazingly, the icon was preserved, except for the weakness of the frame. It was a miracle! I took the icon to be reframed. I thought Mary deserved a new frame after her long journey.  

Soon, the Marian icon ended up hanging in my office of the Institute for Pastoral Initiatives at the University of Dayton. She is positioned on the wall in front of my desk. I find her presence is a calmness in my life. If someone comes into my office with a heavy burden, the Marian icon hovers over behind them. 

I frequently show the Marian icon to my University students and share her saga. I also like to explain what she meant to my family, especially to me. Students love to hear the story. Frequently, they ask if they could bring other students in to view the image. They’ve even begun to tell the story amongst themselves.

The saga of the Marian icon from Poland to New York to Pennsylvania to North Carolina to Maryland and then to Ohio is a fascinating saga of faith. Our Lady of Częstochowa radiates an aura that binds me to my Polish roots, but also gives me an awareness of the migration/immigration of thousands of people seeking shelter from the storms of their lives in the United States today.

While the official Feast Day of Our Lady of Częstochowa is celebrated on August 26th, we still can take the time to dwell on her special significance during October, which is Polish Heritage Month in the United States. What a blessing it is to be able to reflect on my family’s cultural roots during this special time!