PILGRIMAGE

By Nadia Konik

Join the journey of two Australian sisters holidaying in Germany and Israel. For one sister, there is a threefold purpose for the pilgrimage. The first is to discover the personality of a deceased 'stolen' sister they have never met. The second is to discover the cause of estrangement in their own relationship without ruining the once in a lifetime holiday. The third purpose is to take a traditional pilgrimage which develops into something beyond ordinary, involving prophecy fulfillment, a promised epiphany and the miracle of divine intervention in modern day Israel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tablo Publishing
• Release date: Jul 27, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685834586

Book preview

PART ONE – SISTERS

CHAPTER 1 - DAY ONE

The pilgrimage begins, 23 August, 2012.

Have you ever had a falling out with your sibling? My sister Vera and I have become estranged. In fact, there is a chasm between us and I don’t understand why or how it happened. We remain civil to each other, pretending everything is fine and honestly, I am so relieved Vera agreed to accompany me on this trip. It wasn’t the prospect of being with me that influenced Vera to venture out of her comfort zone and book an Etihad Airways flight, economy class, departing Melbourne airport for Dresden via Abu Dhabi and Dusseldorf.

My eyes were drawn to Vera’s seat belt as she tugged and jiggled the clasp. I waited for an indication she wanted help but Vera kept her eyes averted. A flight attendant appeared at her side and eradicated the problem within seconds. I was disappointed because I wanted to help. A few years ago I would not have needed Vera’s permission to help her. She’s my younger sister and it would be taken for granted but now it could be construed as interference.

The drive to the airport was very subdued. The check-in proceeded without a hiccup. To my relief, my bag showed half a kilo to spare and then it was time to go through the hissing doors. I trembled and fought off my jittery nerves. I didn’t want to leave my husband Robert behind. What if I never see him again? Tears welled up. Robert tried to crack a few dad jokes but I saw through his tactic. His kisses became the sweetest ever and then he gently turned me towards the Departure Doors. Vera hugged her son Joshua. Her husband Stewart was unable to see her off and they’d said their farewells earlier. So Vera hugged Joshua until he too detached himself to indicate she should follow after me. The doors closed and we walked beyond the partitions and suddenly there were other matters to occupy our thoughts. We passed through the security check points and passed through the Duty Free shops. We were astounded by the prices. $10 for a small packet of Koala shaped biscuits? Akubra hats for double the retail price? I pointed a finger at a perfume display.

That’s why I buy my perfumes at the Discount Pharmacy!

It would be nice not to have to worry about prices or money. Vera sighed.

It won’t happen in our lifetime. We’re from poor migrant stock but I’m not complaining. Look at where we are and where we’re going. As Robert would say, today we are million hairs.

Vera chortled and then pointed to a café. Do we have time for a latte?

Let’s live it up and have a chocolate éclair with it. Tomorrow we’ll stick to our budget.

By the time our plane taxied into position, we could barely suppress our nervous excitement. Vera is sixty years old and I am her senior by three years but sitting in the plane, we momentarily morphed into children again, ready to embark upon an adventure together without supervision. We have never before holidayed without our husbands and families. Now our sights were set on the other side of the world, Germany and Israel to be precise, for eighteen days!

Vera and I exchanged uneasy giggles and settled back as the plane gathered momentum. I closed my eyes and offered up a prayer. I knew Vera was doing the same. We are not fans of air travel and prefer our feet planted on terra firma, so it’s a comforting habit to pray on take-off and landing. When I opened my eyes we were above the lights of Melbourne and somewhere below our families watched the plane disappear into the night sky. We were due for take-off at 22:10 but encountered a twenty-five minute delay, no doubt due to the miserable, wet and windy weather conditions so typical for Melbourne in August but we were flying into a European summer.

Neither Vera nor I had a window seat and we were seated about mid way in the plane. Initially there was some confusion about seating as we arrived to find our seats were already occupied. A flight attendant came to our rescue and the ladies moved further into the row, a little envious of Vera’s aisle seat. We’d booked an aisle seat specifically for quicker access to the toilet as it was after all, a fourteen and half hour flight to Abu Dhabi. The plan was to try to sleep and arrive refreshed at 6:30 a.m., their time. On settling, we were delighted to find each seat was allocated a ‘sleep pack,’ complete with a blanket, earphones, socks, eye mask, toothbrush and paste. Both Vera and I love to receive freebies.

After the customary safety demonstration, we explored our entertainment units attached to the back of the seats in front of us. There were at least 30 latest release movies, the same amount in other categories, classic movies, or movies made for European, Arabic or Indian inclinations, as well as documentaries, children’s movies and computer games. Learning to use the double sided hand sets and discovering the movies and games available kept us busy until we were handed a menu. In that time we had not yet watched one selected movie or program. Vera glanced at me.

Nadia, I’m not really hungry. I don’t usually eat at this time of night and besides we had that latte only just over an hour ago.

Our body clock is going to be mucked up anyway and we don’t know what time our next meal will be. It’s no extra cost; we should eat up while we can. I intended to make the most of every minute on this trip. Vera’s grey-blue eyes, the same colour as mine, held a little scepticism as she glanced at me.

Free?

Well technically, it’s in the ticket price. I’d checked on booking to ensure meals were included without additional charges. Vera relaxed and perused the menu.

I however, was feeling very heavy and uncomfortable in my seat. I wore a money belt under my blouse and carried a pouch for my passport and traveller’s cards, hanging around my neck like an oversized pendant. My tickets and other paperwork were stashed in one of my shoulder bag compartments while my medications lay in another compartment. On arrival I folded my jacket into the overhead hold together with my small carry-on, but kept my pouch and bag on my person. It wasn’t long before my money belt and pouch were also stuffed into my shoulder bag to nestle securely between my feet under the seat in front of me. Then I relaxed and ignored the disgruntled expression of the lady on my right. I may have accidently jabbed her with my elbow while divesting myself of the money belt but I did apologise at the time.

It’s a proper menu, three courses with choices in each! Can I have all three desserts? It was just a rhetorical question not needing a reply. Vera ate like a bird and struggled with one desert let alone three. She did not need to diet, ever, to maintain her slim form. Her metabolism was satisfied with very small portions. (Unlike mine.) Then I experienced a brainwave.

Let’s have a bottle of champagne as a celebration.

A bottle? Vera pulled a reproving face to prod my conscience.

It’s a cute mini bottle; a piccolo, about a glass full. It seemed reasonable to me but I was guilty of trying to wheedle.

Should we? I could see Vera was warming to the idea.

Absolutely! For medicinal purposes. It will relax us and help us sleep. I also thought, perhaps break the ice between us somehow, but kept that to myself.

The service was excellent on Etihad but I will confess I was a little disappointed in the drab grey uniforms of the cabin crew. I had expected something a little more stylish or exotic.

Well Vera, let’s toast our pilgrimages. And I extended my little plastic wine glass towards her. Vera picked hers up and held it out for me to touch lightly.

Why do you say pilgrimages? We both sipped before I answered her.

Actually it’s a double whammy pilgrimage. The first pilgrimage is to discover the life and personality of our sister Sigrid. To see where she lived and worked; not just to lay flowers on her grave. I want to see what she saw, walk on the ground she walked and hear her family and friends tell us about her. I think we’ll have a better sense and understanding of her personality and the life she led in East Germany. Maybe somehow we can ease the pain in mum’s heart. She has never forgiven herself for their separation. How tragic it was for both Sigrid and mum. Vera nodded in solemn agreement.

Yes, I’d like to know her better. That’s why I came on this trip. I am only sorry that Stewart and Joshua couldn’t come as well. I will miss them. I hope they will be okay and Stewart likes the nursing home and makes friends there.

Oh Vera, he will have the nurses fussing over him exactly the way they do when he goes into hospital. It’s important he receives good meals, his medication on time and they will take him for his dialysis treatments. They say a change is as good as a holiday so it’ll be a holiday for him as much as for you. Joshua is old enough to look after himself and the pets. You know he won’t throw wild parties and his friend’s mum has promised to help out if needed.

I know Stewart really wanted me to have a holiday break. He knows it’s been hard work for me but, I really don’t mind being his carer.

The problem was I did not feel as confident as I tried to sound. Throughout our childhood and teens I always felt responsible for Vera’s well being because I was the elder, so I usually made the reassuring and encouraging noises. It was my role in our relationship.

As mum’s carer, I drew up a roster for family and neighbours to check in on her every day. I raised my left hand with fingers extended then proceeded to fold one finger at a time as I recounted my preparations. She’ll get meals on wheels, Anna will take her shopping and ‘home help’ will do the cleaning. Robert will check in on her every day after work and best of all she now has the safety alarm button hanging around her neck for any emergencies. I lowered my hand and felt a little stronger. I knew I’d left the house spotless, I’d ironed 19 shirts and paired 18 pairs of socks for Robert and the freezer contained all his lunches for the duration I was away. There was no reason to stress, yet something niggled at me; there was something left undone.

I think I covered everything and I’m not going to worry so I can enjoy our pilgrimages. I smiled directly at Vera and she smiled back with a supportive nod. I wondered how I might break the ice and ask Vera what was troubling her.

Oh yeah, what’s the second part of the double whammy? Our glasses were empty, our food trays removed and we passed on the coffee as we intended to sleep.

Israel of course! Like for Sigrid, I want to see where Jesus walked and see what He saw. I want to feel the atmosphere and get a sense of why Jesus loved Jerusalem so much! Vera dropped her gaze and sighed before continuing. I could see she was wrestling with her words and she ran a hand through her short ash blond hair. On closer inspection I detected streaks of grey. When did that happen? Vera’s face was free of make-up and even the lip gloss had disappeared since our meal.

Times have changed. Stewart says we can’t see what Jesus saw. Most of it will be several feet below ground. The temple is destroyed and built over, there were no motor cars or modern buildings in the sky line back then. Stewart says Israel is a dangerous and unpredictable place because of all the trouble they’ve had lately. Really there’s not much point in going to Israel. I would have preferred to spend the extra time in Germany.

I closed my eyes. Ouch. I did not speak it aloud.

Vera, you should have told me. You could have stayed with Ina. I tried not to allow any hurt or disappointment creep into my words.

You booked the tickets for both of us. There was accusation in her tone.

Not before you agreed. I thought you wanted to go as well.

That was before I really thought about it. Her words were blunt but didn’t ring true.

Or before your café friends dissed the trip. Vera glared at me. Each week Vera met three or four ladies at a café when she went to the local shopping mall. It was an outing and break from home duties. Confronted with the glare, I immediately back pedaled.

Vera, they’re nice enough ladies but not practicing Christians, so they couldn’t understand our motivation.

Your motivation. Vera said it quietly but firmly. They said you talked me into it. I was momentarily lost for words and Vera proceeded with her preparations for sleep. She pulled the socks onto her feet.

You believe them? How would they know? They were not part of our discussions. I invited you to join me, I didn’t force you. Vera ignored me and settled back into her seat.

You said yes when you could have said no just as easily. You were very excited at the time. Vera did not reply but spread the small blanket over her torso.

I felt winded. Had I presumed too much? No. I recalled her words and her excitement. I’m not insensitive to Vera’s nuances. Something has happened since then and clearly it has become an issue to widen the chasm between us even further. I sighed deeply and experienced a prickly sensation in my chest.

Vera, it’s not too late. We can cancel the Israel part of your trip when we arrive in Germany. You should get most of your money refunded providing we cancel quickly before the cut-off date. I can travel to Israel on my own and I’m sure Ina will be happy to have you stay longer. I don’t want you to be unhappy on my account. I meant it.

I’ll think about it and let you know. Now I’m going to sleep. Good night Nadia. Vera closed herself off from me and I recognised there was no point in discussing anything further. Vera has a sweet, unassuming and kind nature. She’s frank and honest and not manipulative but she also has a very stubborn streak and does not forgive easily if she feels she’s been wronged. She believes I have wronged her somehow.

I watched a movie and then played a few games on the entertainment unit to prevent myself from stressing. However, I couldn’t fall asleep. All the lights were dimmed and Vera slept soundly even during pockets of turbulence. She also snored a little as did the lady on the other side of me. Every now and then I tuned into the route map. We flew via Port Hedland in W.A. and experienced turbulence over southern India.

For a while I watched Vera sleeping. She looked so vulnerable. Somehow I’d failed Vera and allowed a barrier to form between us. It began about the time our father was hospitalized with Alzheimer’s and stomach cancer. I’d transport mum on daily visits to see dad. Those visits were very distressing for mum and she needed my support. We’d bring small treats, dill pickles or European pine mushrooms or other traditional Ukrainian foods. It helped him settle for the night.

A good day was when my Papa relived his time working as a Supervisor with his former employer, the State Electricity Commission of Victoria. The dining area then became the canteen and the offices. His seat became his office and he would announce where his team were sent to work and sometimes the manner of work to be carried out. Alternatively, the dining area became the assembly point of the D.P. camps where people awaited news of their reassignment, acceptance for immigration and travel requirements. People came and left. It was a time of uncertainty, fear of rejection or reprisals of forced evacuation. However, the days were not necessarily ‘bad’.

A bad day was when he relived the Second World War; the bombing raids, the slave labour camps with the stench of fear and death. Those were heart wrenching and difficult times. When we’d visit, Papa would plead for us to save ourselves and offer to divert or distract the enemy so we could run away. His arms would flail and thrash the air and the staff learnt not to approach him then. It was less stressful to just leave. Afterwards he would sit on the floor, immobile, uncooperative and eventually settle for sleep. Sometimes, there were days when he was as good as gold and we could have normal discussions. We lived for those days.

I divided my time between mum and dad and looking after my grandchildren who were such a delight to me; my respite, my breath of fresh air. I’d retired from work to care for my grandchildren while my daughter, divorced, completed her Bachelor of Education. I was also involved with church activities and volunteer work. It did not leave much time for socialising with Vera and her family or anyone, although we did meet weekly at church and celebratory dinners. We were in the process of building a larger home to accommodate mum and dad with us. We did not know about the stomach cancer when the decision to build was made.

We selected a site beside the Werribee River so dad could do some leisurely fishing even from a wheelchair but unfortunately, dad passed away before the house was completed. Mum moved in with us. During the planning stage, Vera and Stewart also agreed to move into Werribee but needed some time to renovate before they put their home on the market. We were living in our new home with mum when they decided not to follow, citing concern about disruption to Joshua’s schooling. Within a few years Stewart’s health took a downturn, his eyesight deteriorated and he was no longer able to continue working or driving. Vera had never held a driver’s license, so transport suddenly became an issue for them and we now lived over thirty kilometres away, a half hour by car in good traffic.

It was while my mind was rambling over the past that I felt my nose needed a tissue and then I realized I was having a nose bleed. I squeezed past Vera and staggered to the toilets while we were passing through a rough pocket of turbulence and a stewardess materialized, first to scold me, then to assist me. We were not supposed to be out of our seats but I didn’t want to stain my clothing bright red. I rarely have nose bleeds, but I take medication for high blood pressure and there may be a link.

I nestled into my seat again, covered my arms and face with the blanket and a vivid picture of my steam iron standing upright upon the ironing board, flashed into my consciousness. It had been niggling at the back of my mind. Had I switched the iron off? I should have alerted Robert to check prior to parting! Before my alarm began to escalate I expelled a deep sigh of relief. My new iron had a safety cut-off switch. It would turn itself off. That’s why we bought it in the first place. I deliberately closed my eyes and cleared my mind to pray. I prayed for three, not two, personal pilgrimages. Pilgrimage one was to heal and restore my relationship with Vera. Pilgrimage two was to discover the person of Sigrid, our deceased sister whom we have never met. Pilgrimage three was to experience an epiphany in Israel.

At the end of my prayer I recalled a dream I’d not thought about for almost thirty years. It is a special and unusual dream and at some point, while musing on the dream, I finally fell asleep. I woke to find the cabin crew issuing coffee and breakfast. We were soon descending into Abu Dhabi.

THE DREAM.

It always began with noise. Tumult. People were running in opposing directions and running into each other. People scrambled over large hewn stones, large building blocks that had once been buildings, shelter, but now lay scattered in disarray, impeding the fleeing people. The sound is of people weeping, gasping, fearful, and desperate. They are searching for safety and escape from the threat to their lives, from something deadly which I can sense but not see. I too am confused and not sure in which direction to run and I search for my family fearful of being separated from them. Is it war? I cannot see an enemy or any army causing the panic. I stop my aimless running to catch my breath and I see a narrow, almost indistinct path beyond the toppled and crumbling building stones (much larger than our usual building bricks and of a pale sandstone colour). Sometimes a person heads in that direction. I decide to follow and catch up with someone unknown to me.

Where are you going? I call.

To safety, but hurry. You must be at the top of the mountain before the sky opens up. The person turns away to run up the path. Sure enough the path goes up and up and it is a mountain with vegetation almost concealing the route. I see my mother and little sister and point to the path.

That way. Go that way it’s safe but hurry! They turn to go but other people have gathered. I do not recognize them yet but they go in the direction I am pointing.

Nadia said we will be safe if we go up the mountain, my mother pleads with my father.

What does Nadia know, she is only a child, my father scoffs but reluctantly turns to follow my mother.

In the meantime I am still directing people. Please go that way for safety. Some people go. Some people do not. I plead and point the way. Some people are special to me but I do not know why. Their faces are indistinct. Then I know I must get up the mountain myself, some people above me on the path are calling me to hurry. I scurry up past some bushes and the branches are prickly and scratch me. My arm bleeds a little. The path is gravel and pebbles, not smooth and not easy to travel upon. Then I come across my father. He is standing still and his breath is laboured.

I am too old Nadia; I cannot make it to the top. You go save yourself.

Papa I will push you up! I get behind him and push with all my strength.

Slowly we struggle up the incline and progress a few metres but then Papa’s feet falter on the gravel and slide backwards pushing me backwards also. However I am determined, I will not leave him alone. We make slow progress and then I hear loud but low timbre sounds (not like the higher pitch of herald trumpets depicted in Hollywood movies) and I know the sky is beginning to open up. Clouds pull apart and the trumpeting draws closer, louder. The air vibrates with the sound. The sky is lit with brilliant, dazzling light and from within the light, shapes begin to form in hazy silhouette and gradually I see human shapes in flowing white attire slowly descending and giving way to a central figure seated on a white horse. The luminescence around him is so bright I cannot see his face, yet I know it is a him. Now all the figures give voice to glorious, ethereal singing as they approach the summit of the mountain above me. There are many thousands of figures in white following the central figure.

The dream ends abruptly. I do not see the figures touch down on the mountain nor do I know if my father and I make it to the top