Et Ørebid

I heard this story in Isfahan, where, in the years 1942-44 a large number of homes for Polish children (detritus of Polish families deported to the Soviet Union from the Polish territories occupied by the Soviet Union in accordance with the Ribbentrop-Molotov Pact) were established. The children were brought to Iran by the Polish Government in Exile after the German attack on the Soviet Union destroyed that beautiful friendship, and every effort was made by the Government to provide care and compensate for neglected education.

I heard it, I think, shortly before Easter of 1943, when we, the children, were being given spiritual guidance by a Polish Chaplain¹ (who had likewise passed through the Soviet Union, probably a prison or a labour camp). I think that I remember the gist of the story correctly. I do not, of course, remember it verbatim. Here it is:

"It happened a long time ago. A crowd had gathered in the market square of a certain town to witness the hanging of a young man who had committed a dreadful crime. He had killed another man and robbed his corpse. The mother of the condemned man was in the crowd.

The condemned man, the magistrate and the hangman with his assistants all stood on a tall platform under the gibbet, so that all the crowd could see them. The magistrate asked the condemned man whether he had a last wish.

'Yes,' he answered, 'I would like to speak with my mother whom I see over there.'

So the mother was brought to the platform, and as soon as she stepped on it the man shouted: 'Oh, mother! Why did you not chastise me severely for my misdeeds when I was a child! Now you see how small misdeeds lead to dreadful crimes!'

He leant forward towards her in order, all thought, to whisper his last words of farewell into her ear. He leant close, very close, and he bit off her ear and spat it out. Chastisement, just and wise chastisement, is a sign of true love."

Jan Deręgowski