Since I published last month’s brief article on the contemporary Polish mystic Alicja Lenczewska, the Editor-in-Chief’s inbox has been flooded with messages asking for more info on this topic. I must admit, I did not originally plan to continue, but willy-nilly I reach for my laptop and begin. This time, I have decided to combine two figures: one recognized as a saint by the Church and the layperson currently drawing so much attention. In doing so, I would like to focus as much as possible on facts and events from St. Faustina’s life that I assume are not widely known by the audience.
Although their lives were separated by only twenty-nine years, their social and family backgrounds were worlds apart. Yet, a closer examination reveals a startling convergence of spiritual experience. While Divine Mercy serves as the central theme for the first; Love is the most recurring motif in the second, throughout the pages of her two journals, A Word of Instruction and Testimony (both of which are not yet available in English, unfortunately). There, she depicts a profound spiritual reality: the Lord Himself begging for the love of man.
In you I seek solace—so homeless am I in the present world; there are so few souls showing Me tenderness, goodness, or a concern for comforting Me. Today is the Feast of Divine Mercy—I suffer and I desire mercy from the souls in whom I have dwelt in a special way, and whom I had chosen as My brides before they were even created. – Alicja recorded in her journal on Sunday, April 11, 1999.
Alicja and Helena: Origins and Early Years
Helena Kowalska—canonized as St. Faustina—was born on August 25, 1905, in the impoverished hamlet of Glogowiec. At the time, Poland had been erased from the political map, and her village sat within the territories of the Russian Partition. To contextualize its location for the modern reader, Glogowiec lies a few dozen miles from the industrial center of Lodz. In that era, the village lacked schools or secular Polish institutions; the central pillar of community life was the parish church, where the liturgy remained in Latin while the Faith was sustained through sermons preached in the native Polish tongue.
Meanwhile, Alicja Lenczewska was born on December 5, 1934, in a vastly different milieu: Warsaw. As the capital of a newly sovereign state during the interwar period, it was a bustling metropolis of over one million residents, standing in stark contrast to the agrarian silence of Faustina’s youth.
In the Kowalski household, life moved with a quiet rhythm, centered on work and prayer. God was given primacy—not merely on Sundays or during the solemnities of the Church; He was at the heart of the unfolding of every hour. It is said that Helena’s father began each morning by chanting religious hymns, often drawing a gentle reprimand from his wife for fear he might wake the sleeping children. Upon the walls hung the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, images that were popular in the rural Polish landscape of the era. Stanisław Kowalski managed a modest, five-hectare farm—half of which was meadowland—and earned more for his livelihood by working as a carpenter and joiner.
The father of the future saint was a strict man who expected a lot from his children. He demanded total obedience and was known to punish even the smallest mistakes. On one occasion, he told three-year-old Helena—as a joke—that she should go live with the neighbours, since she did not look much like her siblings. Without a word of protest, the child submissively grabbed a small bundle of her things and walked outside. It was only after some time had passed that her mother, realizing the weight of what had happened, hurried out to catch up with the girl just as she was crossing the ditch and reaching the road.
Alicja’s father, August, passed away early, in 1939, leaving her mother, Jadwiga—a teacher by profession—as the sole breadwinner and the primary influence on her children’s upbringing. Jadwiga attended Mass every Sunday and occasionally during the week, dedicating herself to daily study of the Scriptures. This commitment to the Word was noted by Alicja’s older brother, Slawomir, who later confided to his wife, Dorota Lenczewska, his youthful astonishment at his mother’s persistence, wondering “how one could read the same book every single day.”
During the German occupation, the family’s survival depended on Jadwiga’s labour as a kitchen assistant in a facility for Wehrmacht soldiers destined for the Eastern Front. In 1946, the family moved to Szczecin. It was there, while attending a Teacher Training High School and living in a dormitory, that Alicja drifted away from the Faith. It was made worse by a harmful social environment and the Stalinist era—during which the state authorities systematically tried to break the youth’s connection to the Church.
Helena: Determined Soul
In 1922, Helena asked her parents for permission to enter a convent. Both were deeply distressed by her request, and her siblings were moved to tears. Using the lack of money for a dowry as a pretext, they refused their consent. Helena returned to domestic service, this time moving to Lodz—a city boasting a population of 500,000 and a surging textile hub, which at the time was a cosmopolitan center inhabited by Poles, Jews, and Germans.
What is striking about the life of this seventeen-year-old girl are the conditions she set when taking work with the Franciscan Tertiaries; her job could not interfere with: daily Mass, the opportunity to visit the sick and the dying, and her access to a priest. It was in this very city that she experienced her most pivotal moment—not in a cathedral or at home, but during a dance in a park with the romantic name of Venice.
She “saw Jesus at [her] side, Jesus racked with pain, stripped of His clothing, all covered with wounds, who spoke these words to [her]: How long shall I put up with you and how long will you keep putting Me off?” (Diary, 9). Meanwhile, our other protagonist, Alicja, at roughly the same age, walked away from her Faith.
Alicja: Grace in Maturity
For such a turning point, Alicja had to wait a very long time. It finally arrived on March 8, 1985, during a retreat led by the Catholic Charismatic Renewal in Gostyń. As she later confessed:
It was there that Jesus stood before me. He was more real, more tangible than anything in the chapel; more real than the people standing beside me. This happened immediately after receiving the Holy Communion, as I thought with contrition of how late was I on the journey toward Him…
Many would likely wish to expedite the cause of Alicja Lenczewska; however, reflecting on Christian tradition, “patience and careful discernment are often linked to the Church’s wisdom” (cf. St. Augustine). Thus, the Church must proceed with prudence and deliberation to avoid error and verify the heroicity of her virtues (heroicitas virtutum) and reputation of holiness (fama sanctitatis). Perhaps, the most effective way to advance her cause is through daily prayer for this intention. Had Alicja suffered martyrdom for the Faith, the process would be far more straightforward, but evidently, God willed otherwise. Even Sister Faustina’s journey to sainthood required decades of thorough review.
Author’s Note: More to come in Part 2… In the meantime, a riddle for the reader: why do the titles of these articles include “A Star and the Moon”?
Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash
