Rositsa: grass through ashes

This village is called Rositsa. And I drove to this place in the North of Belarus with anxiety in my heart.

The history of this village on a hill above a picturesque lake, quiet and nice, buried in verdure and flowers, is known starting 1599. Before, it was a town with a school, two churches and a synagogue. Noisy and cheerful annual local fairs drew people from miles around.

In the very center of Rositsa, by the road, St. Trinity Roman-Catholic church stands. This red brick Neo-Roman temple is the very thing that calls travelers and pilgrims here. They come to meet this silent witness to turbulent history, happiness and tragedies of people, infernal cruelty and unimaginable courage. This is why I was uneasy in the run-up to this voyage.

The church was built in the early 20^th century at the expense of parishioners and local gentry. The old people told that it was a true public project. When it was impossible to transport building materials by bumpy roads, the local people formed a 12 kilometers long human chain and thus passed red bricks to each other and then to the construction site.

The Rositsa church came out majestic. There were five altars and an organ inside. The outlook of the building differed from the today’s one: originally, it had two high pointed bell-towers. The church was the highest building in the surrounding, its towers could be seen even ten kilometers away. This fact did a disservice to the temple in the Soviet time. In 1930ies, the state border was near, the relations between the Soviet Union and neighboring Poland were strained, and the authorities decided that the church could become an easy target for artillery in case of war. Thus, in 1934, the bell-towers were destroyed. Soon, the decapitated church turned into a local youth club. However, in 1942, prayers and services resumed. It was then that two Roman-Catholic priests, Antony Liaszczewicz and Yury Kashyra, arrived here.

World War II was at its height. Terrible news about punitive expedition of the Nazis sounded nearer and nearer. In February, 1943, the operation cynically named as “Winter Magic” started. Its aim was to form a 40-kilometer zone without settlements and people. For this purpose, more than 300 villages in North Belarus were destroyed by fire and their inhabitants executed. Rositsa was doomed to share the same fate.

On February, 16, 1943, the Nazis came to Rositsa. They crammed all the villagers, about 5 thousand people all in all, in the church. Afterwards, nobody but priests was let outside. People spent nearly 5 days in the church waiting for the decision about their future. Antony Liaszczewicz and Yury Kashyra stayed there, brought bread and water to the captives, made fire right on the church floor that mothers could warm up their children. Soon, it became clear that the fate of everyone would be tragic: the invaders selected young and strong people for medical experiments and forced labor. The rest – kids, old people, pregnant, weak and disabled – would be killed. The priests tried to calm everyone down, prayed, confessed the people and even married those who wished.

Meanwhile, the Nazis finished “sortation”. They drove all the children to the school for execution. Priest Antony Liaszczewicz begged them for children’s lives, but he was not heard. He was offered to go away and stay alive but he refused and stayed with children. They poured gasoline on the walls of the school and threw several grenades there…

The execution lasted for three days. Those sentenced to death were burnt alive in the biggest houses and a horse stable. On the last day, 600 local people and priest Yury Kashyra among them were still alive in the church. The Nazis offered the priest to leave the temple and go away. But he stayed there. He prayed, put white clothes on, took a cross and stood ahead of the column of people who were driven to the place of their execution. Later, they found that cross and a charred hand holding a prayer rope among ashes.

Thus, Rositsa died by fire. 1528 people perished there. Witnesses to those events told that huge fires melted snow all over the neighborhood, and ash covered the land many kilometers around.

After the war, Rositsa revived, unlike 196 other villages burnt by the Nazis in the North Belarus. In 1988, the damaged church was given back to the believers. In 1999, priests Antony Liaszczewicz and Yury Kashyra were beatified by the Roman-Catholic church as holy martyrs. The icon depicting them on the background of a burning barn occupies the central place in the altar of Rositsa church. Twice a year, in February and August, pilgrims from different countries come here to recall the terrible events of winter, 1943. They follow from the church to the local memorial in honor of the perished residents of the village with burning candles in their hands.

I felt down going to meet this place and its painful story. And what did I find there? Peace and beauty, fragrant grasses and flowers and sunlit August silence. It is incredible: it seems that nobody is around. But this calmness is neither tragic, nor dead. It is peaceful, healing and consoling. And the church, solemn and full of light, is open for everyone day and night. From time to time, birds fly inside and sing high above.

I was afraid of meeting the story of this point on the map face to face. But Rositsa showed me the fresh grass of life growing through ashes and pain. And still, I can’t stop asking myself: how come such woe is possible on Earth? How did our land bear it? Who was the first to come back and build life anew on this dead awful bloody site of fire? How did they feel then and how do they feel now living here? Will I ever find answers to these questions?..

Sincerely yours,

Volha Blazhevich.

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