Ministry in Australia

brother. He too eventually recognised me. What a wonderful re-union! I thought, Stefan also looked like his father Franz, who had been our coach driver, car driver and Opa's personal valet. The reminiscing continued for a long time:

"Do you remember when the donkey run away?" "Or when we stole the pears, and Opa was chasing us with his dog Nellie?"

It went on and on. I was so pleased that I could still understand them, only my comments were rather short and slow coming, but I got more fluent in Polish as the afternoon progressed. Time ran out only too quickly.

Before Kubala took us back to Strykowo, he wanted to show us the church he had helped build in Sapowice. In the belfry hung a bell.

"See this bell? It once hung on the cow shed, calling people to work for our master, your father. Now it is calling much the same people to worship our Lord and Master in heaven."

I was deeply moved. I had told him that I was a minister, and he knew that I would be pleased about it.

*

Back in the train again from Poznan to Berlin, we had to cross the East German border near Frankfurt-Oder. Our engine had to be changed from electric to diesel and I thought to myself, why? We had come from Siberia to the East German border by electric trains. Was East Germany so much poorer? or was it just bad administration? I also noticed that the East Berlin homes looked all drab and unfriendly. So were the border police, they never smiled. We left the train in West Berlin, found some relatively cheap accommodation, went for a stroll along the famous Kurfürsten Damm with its outside cafes, and had a look at the Kaiser Wilhelm Gedächtnis Kirche (Emperor Wilhelm Memorial Church), which had been destroyed by the bombs. Only its ruined shell had been preserved, a reminder of the destruction of wars. A new part had been added, which is now a museum. It contained a cross of nails sent by the people of Coventry Cathedral in England from the burnt beams of their Cathedral, also destroyed during the war. It was a beautiful symbol of forgiveness and reconciliation.

Food prices were very expensive in Berlin, especially compared with Eastern Europe. But we found a typical German restaurant where we each had a huge plate full of fried potatoes with eggs, bacon and some vegetables, all fried like an omelette.

My friend Walter Grube was very generous with his time. He took us three on a sightseeing tour through West Berlin, along the Wannsee, and showed us the place where his boat was moored. We had a lavish

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