instead.
"Well, I may be wrong," said Stan chuckling, "but unless Seventh-Day Adventist women are outnumbering their men by seven to one, and are begging to join their households, I can't see how Isaiah 4 can possibly refer to your Church."
Karl winced. "Please, Uncle Stan, not plural marriage - not now!" he thought to himself, barely able to restrain himself from gently kicking the Patriarch under the table.
Bertil was about to appeal to some symbolic meaning but deep down knew this could not be right and stopped himself. What he had hoped would be an opportunity to bring the three men into his Church was proving to be a catastrophe. Instead, he was having his own faith undermined by them! He decided that from then on he would be quiet and try to talk about non-religious things. But Stan would have none of it.
"Tell me, brother Högström, how you were saved? That would interest me very greatly."
Bertil couldn't take any more. He felt cornered.
"That was delicious," he said, complimenting the dish thay had just downed, and glanced at his watch.
"Goodness, I have only half-an-hour to get back to the Conference!" he said, glad to find an excuse to leave.
He called for the tab (bill) and paid as the men started putting their chairs away under the table to leave. They thanked him for an excellent meal and went their separate ways - Bertil to his Conferece and the others to meet up with three of their contacts from the day before. Władysław was particularly looking forward to the meeting because he knew that Märta Reuterswärd would be there, the girl who had caught his eye. And Stan was all for his son getting settled down into the patriarchal way of life. He figured that Karin and Märta would make a nice match for him.
One thing that Stan had thought much about following the previous day's meeting was how to keep his fellowship's plural marriage secret, as had been done up to now, as more and more entered the community and started practicing it. It was bound to leak out eventually. And as the community members felt more relaxed in talking about plural marriage generally, without fear of what others would think or embarrassment because they felt so marginalised in society, more people would get to know about our beliefs and associate us with plural marriage. Then it would not be long before they assumed we lived that way, without even bothering to check up whether that was so or not. Not that the Swedes seemed to mind too much - only the diminishing numbers of arch-conservative Lutherans ever seemd to kick up a fuss about it, and they were almost extinct. The Swedish Lutheran Church was one of the most liberal in the world.
That was one of the things Stan liked about Sweden compared to Poland - the freedom he felt to speak about plural marriage without exciting the wrath and murderous spirit in religious bigots. He realised that his family could never have grown to its present size had it remained in Raj, nor could other polygamist families have come together as they had at Kadesh-Naphtali for fellowship and mutual support. How much more impoverished he felt his family would be today without the Engströms, Nilssons and Åkerstedts! He wanted more to come - he wanted the colony to be filled not just with his ever increasing family but with other families too.
Watching Władysław and Karl enter the patriarchal way had brought much satisfaction and joy to his heart, and to see the other young women enter the principle too - and especially Maria, who had been so anti-plural marriage helself - was especially warming. As more patriarchal families came together, the more intermarrying that took place would ensure the suirvival of the little Christian colony not just as a "church" but create a tribe - and that was his ultimate goal: he desired to see the Israelite theocracy restored and for the first time his dream was beginning to be realised.
But what a long time it had taken - as long as it takes to raise children up in the admonition of Yahweh so that they themselves would all desire to be polygamists. All the marriageable youngsters were now pro-plural marriage because they had grown up in it and seen it work. They also knew the difficulties and struggles so were under no illusions as to the sacrifices and demands it placed on men and women alike. They watched adults struggle and overcome - sometimes with great dramatic scenes, sometimes as effortlessly as climbing out of bed in the morning.
And now more and more people were becoming interested. Stan felt it important to drop clues about plural marriage from the start - not overtly, but subtly - so that the Order didn't find itself with investigators who accepted everything it stood for who would then be driven away by the sudden revelation of plural marriage. Plural marriage had to be framed into the whole picture from the beginning so that investigators at least felt comfortable with it in their minds. Dealing with the issues raised by the heart could follow later. It was for this reason that he never failed to include Isaiah 4:1 in any discussion about Zion or the Millennium.
He explained this to Karl after the meal to help him appreciate what needed to be done to educate Christians in the truth. He had been far too reserved in the past, leaving plural marriage to the very 'end', only to regret it later, because the impression that was given was that it was something we were embarrassed about and wanted to keep back as long as possible. So many people had been lost employing that tactic. No, Stan would bring up plural marriage as early as possible but be careful to slip it in amongst other things so as not to draw unnecessary attention to it. But it had to be there.
The three men were on the underground again heading for the suburb of Sundbyberg to the north of the city centre where the hôtel was. They had spent some of the morning in Stan's favourite part of Stockholm, the Gamlabyn or Old Town, with its picturesque buildings that reminded him so much of the Continent. He had sat with Władysław and Karl in the German Lutheran Church with its fantastic stained glass windows and just soaked up the atmosphere. For a moment he had felt home again. He would have happily spent the whole day in the Old Town alone though he would have enjoyed it more had it been the summer. The Swedish spring was late, short and deceptively cold, especially if there was a wind, and though the sun had shone brilliantly all day, it was not good to be outside for too long.
The three found their way to the home of their hosts, Pär Lagerborg and his wife Anne-Marie, were cordially greeted and brought into a tastefully arranged living room, and introduced to the other guests. Pär and Anne-Marie were in their sixties and had been Seventh-Day Adventists many years before, leading lives as virtually independent Christians ever since.
Władysław's and Märta's eyes met almost immediately and it was clear that something had gelled between them from the first moment they had met. Märta was short, slightly plump, with a well-rounded but exquisitely beautiful face that seemed to naturally radiate kindness. Her neck was unusually long for her physique. No wonder Władysław was attracted to her. Karl saw the instant chemistry between the two and gave up any fleeting intentions he may have had personally, being in any case far too occupied with his other two ladies whom he would betrothe in three day's time. He was secretly pleased for Władysław that he had found, it seemed, a second potential wife so soon, so that the two men might share a comradeship that was even closer, the pair having found two women each.
There was a fourth and unexpected guest present - a woman of quite a noble bearing, reminding him in both her appearance and mannerisms, of a European aristocratic lady he had once seen seen in a movie. Her name was Jenny (pronounced 'Yenny') Lind Stattin, was thirty-two, and would change Stan's life forever.
As it turned out, all four were related to one another, though you wouldn't have thought so looking at them, Märta and Jenny being distant cousins. Neither were from Stockholm, Märta coming from Oxelösund south of the capital, and Jenny from Katrineholm to the south-west.
Märta Andrén Reuterswärd was 23 years old and a former student of Fine Art, as could be descerned from her colourful clothing, and worked in a gallery in Oxelösund as assistant administrator. Stan liked her instantly, and seeing her as a potential daughter-in-law came with delightful ease. But when he saw Jenny he was transfixed - not by her beauty, which was undeniable, but by her comportment. This was not an artificially-contrived manner, moreover, but seemed to come quite naturally to her, so that she was not even conscious of it. She was, he was sure, the kind of woman who would feel a pea placed under her mattress.
When the eyes of the two met, there was a sudden jolt within both, as of a mutual understanding of kindred spirits. Stan's heart pounded, but not in a way it had pounded before. Most men would have noticed the noble features, the carefully prepared hair, or the dangling silver earrings. Others would have noticed the slender fingers. She was dressed impeccably, reminding Stan of a noblewoman from a quattrocento portrait (15th century Renaissance Art) he had once seen in Warsaw, though mixed in with the fashion of the Victorian era.
Quite instinctively, Stan's Masurian nobility took over, and when introduced to the lovely lady, he was suddenly in a different century. He bowed respectfully, clicked his heels, and kissed the proffered hand lightly. She, in her turn, curtsied graciously, and seemed also to be transported into another realm. For a moment Stan was mesmerised, and one would not have been surprised if an invisible orchestra had suddenly struck up a Strauss waltz and the two had glided away onto the dance floor.
Władysław watched with keen interest, for something of the noble in him had been awakened too as he watched his father spontaneously perform. Karl did not quite understand what was going on, but Pär Lagerborg did. For Stan had not only found a kindred spirit who was able to enter a part of him, and he of her, that none other had, but had also discovered a new part of himself that had never been brought out before. Suddenly he was, as it were, in the royal castle of Königsberg at the coronation of a King of Prussia, surrounded by the old world charm of a bygone era. And so long as he was there, he did not want to return to the real world of superficiality and coarseness: he wanted grace and gentlemanly ways. He knew, of course, that he had probably idealised the past, but it was an ideal that he nonetheless rested happily in, and he wished that it could remain.
Keeping focussed on the purpose of the visit was very hard for him. Though he would not at first admit it, he had fallen in love with this gentle lady. And the sparkle of affection which had kindled his own heart had somehow mysteriously and invisibly crossed the void of the twenty-first century which separated them and set alight a lady's lamp in Jenny's soul. The two simply bathed in one another without so much as speaking a word.
Stan closed his eyes and looked up at his hosts who were smiling like a father and mother pleased at the intended union of a daughter. And yet they were not parents but distant relatives.
"On behalf of my cousins," said Pär, "I bid you welcome to our home," and sat down next to his wife on the sofa opposite.
"Though you may not possibly realise this, Mr. Królewiec, we are actually related."
Stan's jaw dropped - and that didn't happen very often.
"Yes, it is perfectly true. My grandmother was the Countess Grethe von Stauffenburg- Marienhof, who came to Sweden in 1872 to marry my grandfather..."
For a moment Stan lost his composure.
"Ach du meine Güte," he spluttered spontaneously in German, something that was very rare. "Do you mean, Grethe who was born in Groß Friedrichsdorf - the daughter of Count Gottfried von Marienhof???"
The older man laughed softly.
"Yes, that's right, my boy. One of Gottfried's sisters married into your family and lived near Heilsberg - but you know our genealogy, I see!"
It was not every day that Władysław saw his father like this. And this was his family history too.
"And these good ladies, where do they fit into the picture?" asked an astonished Stan.
"They are both your distant cousins, of mixed East Prussian and Swedish ancestry. We are all family here, you know."
Stan's eyes became moist as he looked around the room. Could this be possible? Could it be possible that he had found more of his family - and could it even be possible that they were all believers?
"But how did you know?" asked Stan, still overwhelmed somewhat. "I mean, our family dropped their German names in 1945 so that they could remain in the Polish-annexed part of East Prussia and not join the exodus westwards."
This was something that Władysław had never known before.
"Do you mean, father, that we're not Królewiecs??" he asked, a little worried. Władysław knew that the family was of mixed German and Polish ancestry but had always assumed that the Królewiec name was bona fide.
"Our family name is 'von Brandenburg-Schwedt' and we are descended from the Margrave Karl," said Stan proudly.
"But I thought we were Masurians!" cried Władysław. "Do you mean to say that we aren't Slavs at all?"
"We are a mixture, my son. We are Prussians, and Prussians are Germans, High and Low, Poles, Masurians, Kashubs, Schonzaks, Wends - yes, and we're even mixed with Dutch, Scottish, English, Lithuanians and French Hugenots. The old Prussians were a truly mixed bunch, and that, I believe, is where our strength lies. And especially the aristocracy - see, we even have Swedish relatives. Don't you think that is wonderful?"
But Władysław was having problems reconciling his Polishness with a name like von Brandenburg-Schwedt.
"Shall we revert to von Brandenburg-Schwedt?" he asked, in half panic.
"No, my son, we shall remain Królewiec. It's what you are that's important, not what your name is."
Pär Lagerborg butted in.
"This has indeed been a strange but delightful reunion, more so as we are all brothers and sisters in Christ."
Everyone agreed.
"But how did you know who I was?" Stan asked the older man.
"From a photograph in our family ancestry. How the compilers of our genealogy got hold of it, I do not know, but you are the last in the family line from the Allenstein region that we know about."
He showed Stan a large red leather-bound volume and pointed to a page containing several pictures.
"Look, there's my grandfather and grandmother, and father!" said Stan excitedly as Władysław looked over his shoulder - "your great grandparents and grandfather."
He stared engrossed at the book.
"But these pictures are from the early 1930's. Look, they're standing in the Allensteiner Stadtpark Jakobsberg in front of the memorial to the plebiscite taken in 1920."
Władysław looked at the memorial which consisted of about a dozen square pillars joined at the top by a ring of stone slabs. There were coats of arms on each pillar with names underneath them.
"What does this mean, father?" asked Władysław, pointing at some German text.
"Wir bleiben deutsch" means 'We remain German'. You see, the victorious allies tried to detatch as much of eastern Germany from the Reich as they could to reward the newly independent Polish state - even though Poles had fought on both the German and Austrian sides - but the plebiscites went in Germany's favour, much to the Allies' surprise and the Poles' disappointment. The Protestant Masurians - the only Protestant Slavic group in Europe - voted en masse to remain a part of Germany which amazed the Poles who assumed that fellow Slavs would want to join a Slavic nation. But they didn't. They considered themselves to be Prussians, and Prussia was a part of the German Reich, so they wanted to remain a part of the Reich.
"These crests are the coats of arms of the major towns that took place in the Plebiscite. There, you can see 'Johannisburg' on that pillar. You've been there, but today it's called Pisz!
Władysław had forgotten.
"So didn't any Poles living in East Prussia vote for Poland, father?" he asked.
"Not many. In Allenstein only about three hundred out of a total population of about eighteen thousand. You see ... how can I explain it to you?"
Stan paused.
"You are what you are. States are artificial things. Our family transcends states. We are East Prussian Masurians, and our language and culture is Prussian - a culture that transcends German and Polish differences, and especially their hates. The Germans tried to destroy the Poles in the last war, and the Poles in their turn tried to destroy everything German out of the territories they sezied... "
"You despise the Poles, don't you, father?" said Władysław sadly.
"No, my boy, I do not despise Poles or Germans. I despise only unrighteousness. Two wrongs don't make a right, and what the Poles did after 1945 made them complicit in the German crimes. I am a Masurian - a Prussian, if you like - who has found his Saviour. I have joined a new nation that contains every race and nationality on earth - a nation that transcends petty nationalism.
"You know, our German ancestors used to sing a song when they marched out to war against the Russians, Austrians and Swedes in Fredrick the Great's time. It was called: Ich bin ja Herr in deiner Macht! meaning, "I am verily in your power, O Lord!"
Märta spoke for the first time: "Would you sing it for us, cousin Stan?"
And Stan did! And as he did, it was as though he was transported back across the centuries and was surrounded by the Prussian pipers and drummers as they marched off to battle against the superior manpower of the green-shirted Russians, magnificent and splendid marching in calm and silent order. The room became electric as Stan gave way to a passion that had no place in our time and yet which still could captivate the soul for its intense beauty and faith. The men that had once sung it knew that they might not return home and were committing their souls to the eternal care of their Lord.
Jenny was looking deeply into the face of this unusual man, the likes of whom she had never seen before, and something was deeply stirred in her soul too. It was not the song Stan had sung, nor the unsual circumstances that had brought them together. No, it was as though destiny was playing her own melody and she suddenly became aware that her life, and this man's, were soon to be entwined.
This page was first created in 2002
Last updated on 2 August 2026
No part of this work may be reproduced or stored on any
medium without the express permission of the publisher.
Violators of this copyright will be prosecuted
Copyright © 1987-2026 Chavurat Bekorot
All Rights Reserved | Alle Recht vorbehalten
