Two years ago I attended my first Polish wedding. We spent time before and after the wedding traveling around Poland, a country that’s experienced so many hardships and continues to struggle for economic growth. The church where the wedding took place was built in the twelfth century—needless to say, there was no air conditioning, even though the cool brick kept out some of the heat of the ninety-degree day. The priest conducted the ceremony in both Polish and English—an accommodation for our family who had travelled from Minnesota to Torun, Poland, for our son’s wedding. Beforehand, we’d heard people outside talking about the American wedding that was taking place. We were the subject of much talk and curiosity that week.

After the service some of the wedding party took the traditional walk to the statue of Copernicus in the town square. The reception began with a Bread and Salt Blessing by the bride’s parents. The bread is a symbol of prosperity, and the salt reminds them that life may be difficult, but salt is also healing. Then we all gathered in one large circle, all one hundred of us, and they sang a special song while the circle moved. Kasia’s relatives were shy at first. But throughout the next two days (yes, the reception lasted two days!) they came up one by one and spoke to us in broken English, anxious to make a good impression and to get to know us.
With a traditional Polish band providing music, we sang, danced, played games, and heard Polish stories. We ate countless Polish dishes, sang the Sto Lat toast innumerable times, and had a pig roast outside at three o’clock in the morning.

Now, two years later, I still remember the smiles and shrieks of delight when I spoke to them in Polish, even as bad as I was. I can see the wedding cake lit with candles that blazed like fireworks. I can hear them singing, their voices reminiscent with the traditional songs that dated back longer than they could remember. Everyone sang; the young and old, the men and women. Everyone danced. Everyone celebrated.

Two weeks ago I attended another wedding, this one in Milwaukee. We danced, we sang the Sto Lat toast, and we ate delicious food. I remembered what I had learned in Poland, what the Polish people had taught me that I had taken for granted until my visit there: that despite hardships, busy schedules and economic woes, life is meant to be celebrated. I hope your summer was filled with celebration.