that did indeed take place. And to close the mouths of those who,
without having heard her story, claim that she did not exist.
The beginning of Kummernis's life
II. Kummernis was born imperfect in her father's eyes, but only
according to a human understanding of imperfection - for her father
longed for a son. Sometimes, however, what is imperfect in the world
of men is perfect in the world of God. She was the sixth daughter in
a row. Her mother died giving birth to her, and so one could say that
they crossed paths - one came into the world as the other departed it.
Kummernis was baptized Wilgefortis, or Wilga.
This took place in the village of Schonau, which lies at the foot of
the mountains. The mountains shield it from the north winds, so it is
warm there, and on the southern slopes a grapevine is still known to
grow, a sign that these lands were once nearer to God and warmer. To
H o u s e o f D a y, H o u s e o f N i g h t
53
the west rise other majestic mountains, flat-topped, a s i f they were
once tables for giants, while to the east Schonau is surrounded by
gloomy uplands covered in forest. From there to the south stretches
the great panorama of the Czech plain, an invitation to journey into
the world. And so Wilga's father never kept his seat at home warm
for long. All year he went hunting, and every spring he set out on
lengthy crusades. He was strong in stature, violent and quick to
anger. He secured foster-mothers and nursemaids for his daughters - that was really all he could do for them. A few months after Wilga's birth he left for Prague to attend the assembly of all the crusading knights, whence they set out for the Holy Land.
The childhood of Kummernis
III.
Wilga spent the first years of her life among women: her sisters,
foster-mothers and servants. The house was full of the sound of the
siblings' voices. Once her father, wanting to call her to him, forgot
her name, for he had so many children and so many things on his
mind, had waged so many wars in his life and had so many serfs
that his daughter's name had slipped his memory. One winter her
father came home from an expedition bringing a new wife with him.
The little girl loved her stepmother more than anything. She was full
of admiration for her beauty, her fine voice and her fair hands that
could draw wonderful sounds from musical instruments. Whenever
she gazed upon her she hoped that one day she would be just like
her - ethereal, beautiful and delicate as thistledown .
And Wilga's body took the same route a s her dreams - the little
girl grew up and became beautiful, so that all who saw her marvelled
in silence at this miracle of creation . Therefore many gentlemen and
knights impatiently awaited the return of the girl's father, lord and
master, each wanting to be the first to make his proposal and ro
claim her in marriage.
54
O l g a To k a r c z u k
w One day, when all the women had been awaiting the return of
their father, husband, lord and master for two years, a young knight
appeared, weary with journeying, and announced that he believed he
had seen the baron's body among those fallen in battle in a distant,
sun-scorched land. This man stayed with them all summer and while
walking in the garden comforted Wilga's stepmother with sweet
songs and tales of azure seas and the golden gates of jerusalem. But
then he vanished for ever. Her stepmother wept, and her instrument
lay on the floor with broken strings.
Soon after, one dark night, Wilga's father came home. Torches
were lit and everyone went out to greet him. He was shaggy and
dirry, and stank of blood. His horse dropped down from exhaustion,
but the baron didn't even give it a second glance. His gaze moved
across the faces of his daughters and came to rest on the beauty of
Wilga, as though she were a stranger.
A few days later Wilga's beloved stepmother died of a haemorrhage,
and her father, without observing the mourning period, gave five of his
daughters in marriage to his best knights in a single day. As the only
one too young for marriage, Wilga was assigned to the convent.
Her first sojourn at the Benedictine convent
V. Beyond Broumov, in the hamlet of Kloster, was a convent
founded by the baron's grandfather. There he took his youngest
daughter. And as they were riding over the mountains the baron
had to turn his face away from her, so painful did he find her beauty.
And his soul despaired that something so beautiful, so very desirable
and beloved, should become distant and unattainable.
The sisters received the girl with joy, for it soon appeared that her
spiritual beauty was equal to her physical beauty, and even surpassed it. They taught the child many things, and as the rules of the order make great demands on a novice, Kummernis was soon able to
H o u s e o f D a y, H o u s e o f N i g h t
55
read, write, and sing beautifully, thus rendering praise to Our Lord.
And when anyone stood in her presence, a great, comforting warmth
radiated from her, so that even a dark chamber seemed bright, and in
her speech there was wisdom unparalleled for her age and her judgements were mature. Her frail body imparted a balmy fragrance and roses were found in her bed, even though it was winter. Once, when
she was set before the mirror, the image of the face of the Son of God
appeared on its surface, and remained there until next day.
The start of Kummernis's novitiate, her preparation for
devotion to the Lord
VI. It was then that the most terrible thing happened - her father
returned from his latest expedition, and seeing how she had matured
and how much more painful her presence was to him, he resolved to
give her in marriage to his friend from the wars, Wolfram von
Pannewitz. So he sent an envoy to the convent with a letter demanding that she be made ready to leave it. And as she had not yet taken the veil, the abbess did not dare to refuse the baron.
Anyone who has ever seen the mountains in late autumn, when
the last frost-glazed leaves still hang on the trees, when the earth is
warmer than the sky and is slowly wasting away beneath the first
snows, when its stony bones are starting to protrude from under the
withered grass, when the darkness starts to seep from the washedout margins of the horizon, when sounds suddenly become sharp and hang in the frosty air like knives - he who has seen all this has
witnessed the death of the world. But I would say the world is always
dying, day after day, though for some reasons only in late autumn is
the entire mystery of that death laid bare. And the only living place
to resist this decay is the human body, but not all of it, just a tiny part
of it, below the heart, at the very centre, where, invisible to the
human eye, the source of all life lies pulsating.
56 0 I g a To k a r c z u k
On the way home Kummernis asked God in her prayers to reverse
the order of the roads and to wind up time like a ball of thread to stop
it running at all. And when she realized that there was no escape for
her anywhere on the
outside, she understood that her only refuge
was to journey to the inside, where dwells Our Lord. As soon as she
crossed the threshold into herself, there she saw a much greater
world, the beginning and end of which was God.
VII.
After this journey Wilga fell ill and for several months she
lay in a fever. It was thought she would die, and her betrothed,
though sad, finally began to look for another bride. But gradually
she felt better, and from then on Wolfram's sullen gaze watched
over her return to health. His large, sinewy body, clad in leather
and metal, tended to her body. His hand resting on his sword,
which had cut off the heads of so many infidels, seemed ready for
the next battle.
Then Wilga told her father: During my illness I saw things I had
never dreamed of. I was in places that I had thought did not exist.
Give me time, Father, to recover. I beg you to send me back to the
convent, and in a year I shall return to marry Wolfram.
But her father was relentless and refused to hear of handing his
daughter over to the nuns. For there she would become a thing apart,
not brought under the plough like fallow land. I n giving her to
Wolfram von Pannewitz in marriage, in a manner he would be giving
her to himself, that is to the male sex, to which through God's will he
belonged, to possess and command the Lord's creation.
So he said to her: In body you belong to the world and you have
no other lord and master than me. To this his daughter replied: I have
another Father in heaven and He is preparing another Bridegroom
for me.
At these words the baron flew into a rage and said: I am the lord
and master of your life. He is the lord and master of your death.
H o u s e o f D a y, H o u s e o f N i g h t
57
Kummernis flees to the mountain wilderness, where she is
tempted by the Devil
Vl/1.
Realizing that her father's obduracy was stronger than all
arguments, Kummernis ran away to the mountain wasteland; while
wandering there she came across a stony mountain, and in it a cave,
and by the cave a spring. She realized that God had given her this
refuge, so that she might survive her father's rage and return to the
convent. Having come to love this refuge, she lived in it for three
years in solitude and prayer. She fed on mushrooms and forest roots;
leaves served her for bedding and a rough stone for a pillow. And if
anyone thinks this impossible, I call upon Jesus and the saints to
bear witness, for I know of such cases when a person lives in solitude, sheltered and fed by the mountains.
At this time the Devil appeared to her, enraged by her holiness.
He stood at the mouth of the cave and stared at her sneeringly. But
she did not let him see that she had noticed him, and she prayed
ceaselessly, until despite the cold and darkness in the cave, narcissi
bloomed, surrounding her in white garlands. At this the Devil did
not dare to go deeper into the cave, so he just stood on the spot and
jeered at her. Another time he assumed a form that was half
human and half horse, another time he took on the appearance of
a man-serpent or a big black bird with human eyes. Seeing that
she took no notice of him, he began to tempt her - he brought delicious food and put it at the mouth of the cave, and brightly coloured women's robes, and great volumes full of the wisdom of
the world.
Kummernis heals the children of Konrad of Ka rlsberg
IX. These miracles were little praised and glorified, for they had no
witnesses, but another event allowed people to hear of the sainr.
58
0 I g a To k a r c z u k
One day Count Konrad of Karlsberg was crossing the mountains
with his three children, but on the way they had eaten some dubious
mushrooms, and the children fell seriously ill. They stopped at a village, and their mother began to mourn them. But on hearing that there was a hermit nun living in the mountains, ignoring his own
dignity Konrad mounted his horse and rode up and down the forest
paths in search of her. Having found her with the help of God he said
to her: I beseech you, help my children, restore them to life.
Kummernis refused, explaining that she never left her cave and that
she was not worthy to heal the sick in the name of the Lord. But he
threw himself at her feet and, bathing them in tears, would not stop
imploring her to help. Kummernis went with him to the village and,
having made the sign of the cross over the unconscious bodies of the
children, she at once restored their health.
Thus the world heard about the saint, which was the cause of her
fame, and then led to her martyrdom.
Kummernis cures sick souls and the suffering arising from
desolation of heart
X. When people heard of the miracles she performed, they travelled
towards the forest in crowds, to find the cave and ask for her help.
There was a man possessed by the Devil, who changed into a wolf,
howled at night and attacked people. When his family brought him to
the saint, she leaned over him and spoke a few words in his ear.
Those present heard how she addressed the Devil that inhabited the
unfortunate man. They conversed for a while, and then suddenly the
Devil left the sick man through his mouth, and was seen bolting
into the forest in the shape of a wolf. The man recovered and lived in
health and happiness to a ripe old age.
made the sign of the cross over him and prayed over him in silence,
H o u s e o f D a y, H o u s e o f N i g h t
59
and then, placing her hand beneath his breast, she drew out a
hideous great bird that beat its wings awkwardly and flew away.
Sometimes people brought sick animals, but she never refused to
cure them, just laid her hands on them and prayed for their health as
if they were people.
Another time she helped a man who had been exiled from his city
of birth, for he had broken the law there. This man could not live far
from his home and was suffering a terrible yearning in his soul, so
much so that he was incapable of doing anything. Kummernis laid
her hands on his brow and from then on the man was cured, for she
awoke in him love for all that he found in a foreign land, and he
began to till the earth, sired many children and built houses.
She was also called to the dying, to accompany their souls through
the labyrinths of death.
Kummernis reaches the convent to take her vows
XI.
Miracle upon miracle did she perform, but it was not long before
news of her reached her father, who had not yet forgotten his grudge.
Warned by the Holy Spirit and escorted by Him, Kummernis reached
her convent and there she took her vows. She spent her time alone in
prayer, reading and strict fasting. Every Friday she slept, sitting in a
chair, and the door of her cell was always open. The other nuns said
that often from her cell a golden radiance fell and strange voices could
be heard, as if Kummernis were holdin
g a conversation with someone. Furtively, they would touch her robe when she came to mass.
Kummernis's father lays claim to her
XII.
Unfortunately, all grudges. hatred and despair are long-lived.
Kummernis's father was unable, in his spiritual confusion. to abandon his scheme. On discovering that she was at the convent , he
60
0 l g a To k a r c z u k
came for her in an agitated state, his face and hands visibly marked
by the barely healed wounds of his latest battle. He told her: I have
been at war in defence of the faith, while you have had much time to
gather your strength before the holy sacrament of marriage, but now
that time is over. Let us go home.
And she replied: I am no longer Wilga, I am not your daughter nor
Wolfram's betrothed. My name is Kummernis and I have become the
bride of Our Lord. At these words her father was overcome with
such mighty anger that he seized the stool on which he was sitting
and struck it against the wooden grille that divided him from his
daughter. The grille crashed down, and he caught the girl by the arm
and started to drag her after him. But she was young and strong,
while he was old and jaded from eternal warfaring, so she tore herself free and fled from him.
He did not let his countenance betray him either to the abbess or
to his servants, though he felt mortally humiliated. He stopped for
the night at an inn not far from the convent and there, shut in a
stuffy chamber, he slowly recovered his self-control.
XIII. The next day he returned to the convent with gifts and expensive robes, Wolfram's presents to his betrothed. He smiled broadly at her when she came into the parlour and said: Tell me, daughter, are
there two classes of people, the ordinary and the perfect? And do
you belong to the perfect, while I am just one of the ordinary? In
what way are you different from other women who, obedient to the
will of their fathers and to the will of God, get married and bear children for the glory of God? Why make life in a convent your ideal?
For one can live a worthy and saintly life within marriage without
being excluded from the opportunity of attaining perfection. Both
ways are dear to God. And so why is your mind set on the way that
creates so many complications, breaks hearts and destroys families?
You are my only remaining daughter, my staff and comfort in old
H o u s e o f D a y, H o u s e o f � i g h t